


The Best Ways to Utilise Heartbreaks

by Rhun



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arashi - Freeform, Friendship, Heartbreak, Misunderstanding, Multi, Pining, Shitsuren Chocolatier - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, bad attempt at trying to chocolate, strong language ahoy because we're all responsible adults eyy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhun/pseuds/Rhun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how much time passes, there are certain people who are just unforgettable.  Sakurai Sho is one of those people and Jun knows that he's on the right track when their worlds align and they meet again nine years later.  But of course, complications naturally arise.  Nothing is ever that straight-forward.</p><p>Or, alternatively titled as that fic where there is heartbreak, copious pining, unnecessary drama and intelligent men making stupid choices.  Sigh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Really? A Shitsuren Chocolatier AU? Yup because I'm trash for melodrama and a situation where almost everybody is homo and pining after each other. Loosely based off the drama because damn the idea of Sho as Saeko-san but even more frustratingly elusive? This I simply cannot unsee. Tell me that I'm not the only one who's thought of this.
> 
> So here's how it all starts. When Jun falls hopelessly in love. Because it's going to be one hell of an emotional fuckwit ride after this.
> 
> (Heads up, if you lot get the Ninosan thing in this chapter, well done son)

The first time Matsumoto Jun knows that he's fallen in love was when he was seventeen.

He’s a second year student struggling through the awkward years of thorny adolescence in the panorama of high school and of course he just had start the year off by barrelling into the butt of a third year student. Jun doesn’t remember the details of what really transpired in that window of time of his life but what he does remember was that feeling how time actually  _ _stopped__ and how his heart throbbed _hard_ __ at the face of a boy who's scowling furiously and yelling vicious profanities to his face.

“The fuck is  _ _wrong__ with you? Are you a retard? Do you want to  _ _die__?”

 _No I don't and I'm __sorry_ , _ _is what Jun ought to say because a normal person would have abscond the fuck out of an embarrassing situation like this in the hopes of saving face and to avoid any broken bones.   __Yes it's my fault I wasn't looking at where I was going I'm so sorry for headbutting your butt_ _ is what Jun could've said. But he didn't.  He remains planted on the ground, his heart feeling like it's beating at a hundred miles an hour because he knows and is certain that this is it. This is that feeling everyone talks about. That premonition of love you feel when you meet  _ _the__ one.

“I’m in the cooking club. If you try out one dish I make and like it, let’s be friends,” is what Jun ends up blurting. The look Jun receives from the boy is nothing short of incredulous. He’s stopped shouting at Jun but is now staring at him with his eyebrows raised, his shoulders slumped and his mouth slack.

“Huh?”

Shakily, Jun bravely rises to his feet and that’s when he hears this odd shrill squawk come around the corner. He isn’t sure what it was or if it was even human in the first place but whatever it was, it had the older boy in front of him stiffening. The angry scowl quickly falls away from his face and in its place, a look of panic. Distraught, even. The older boy hastily apologises and then shoulders past Jun to break off into a sprint.

Jun stands there, slightly at a loss as he blinks at the disappearing back of the third year student when all of a sudden a tall gangly boy in a laboratory coat comes stumbling around the school building. A ratty wet shirt which has probably seen better days is clasped tightly in his hand, dripping revoltingly.

“Hey you! Did you see Sho-chan?” the boy – Lab Coat, Jun decides to call him – asks in a tight wheezy voice. His expression is pinched with barely concealed frustration. “Sho-chan? He’s, uh, he’s about this high? Has round eyes and a forehead you could land a plane on?”

Ah.

Jun almost turns his head to where that boy – Sho-chan – had run off to and fights back the smile that’s tickling the corners of his mouth. Sensing the expectant look from the other, he raises his hand and scratches the back of his head. “No. I don’t think anyone like that went past here,” Jun lies with a sheepish toothy smile.

Lab Coat groans and grumbles about spoilsports and how friends should totally keep their end of the bargain. He thanks Jun quickly and rushes off to find ‘Sho-chan’, blaring at the top of his lungs like an abandoned seagull. Jun watches Lab Coat’s retreating figure and quietly thanks him for the name, tucking it into a small corner of his mind for safekeeping.

 

*

 

It’s two weeks later and when Jun is in the middle of making Napolitan pasta that Sho comes gracelessly scrambling back into his life. Or rather, into the home economics room where Jun grudgingly stays behind in for cooking club every day.

Jun nearly drops his pan at the sight of Sho while the other boy, startled out of his poor heart, stumbles back and hits his elbow painfully into the door behind him. The loud bang has Jun wincing empathetically but they both remain where they are, staring at each other from across the room.

The pasta sizzles on but Jun can hear his heart go thump, thump, thump. He wordlessly raises his pan with one hand and turns off the cooker with the other.

“It’s you,” Sho finally croaks in acknowledgement. He remains by the door. “The one – that one time – when we –”

Jun gives a curt nod and remembers to breathe. “Yeah. That was me.”

“Right. Of course. Why wouldn't it be.”

Sho looks tentative at first, his eyes darting towards the pan before drifting around the room as if he’s trying to compute everything all at once. After a long second, he finally steps away from the door and rubs at his elbow. “A bargain,” he says in a voice that would’ve have been authoritative if it wasn’t so breathless. Not meeting Jun’s eyes, he gesticulates at the pan. “I’ll eat your food. In exchange of salvation here.”

Jun almost laughs at this – who uses big fancy words like that in real life, seriously? - but nods once more with a small grunt of, “Fine”. He tries to not drop his pan as he catches the small look of relief which crosses Sho’s face and pushes the pasta he’s cooked onto a plate. He wonders if Sho was still on the run from Lab Coat. That would probably explain why he looks so frazzled. “Not a lot of people come down this wing in the first place so I suppose you’ll be safe,” Jun adds. When Sho shoots him a questioning look, he rubs the back of his neck and meekly tells him, “Please make yourself comfortable.”

“...thank you.”

It takes a while before Sho finally moves away from the door and hesitantly seats himself at Jun’s workstation. He doesn’t meet Jun’s eyes but instead has his gaze transfixed on the pasta.  Jun picks up a clean fork and holds it out for the other boy to take. Sho glances up at him and that's when Jun finally sees yes, Lab Coat was right. Behind that stylish fringe, there is definitely a wide forehead which you can definitely land a plane on. Jun tries to fight back a smile but he knows that he’s likely to be failing spectacularly when Sho’s brows furrow slightly.

“Please excuse me. My name is Matsumoto,” Jun quickly introduces with the fork still held out between them. “Matsumoto Jun. Class 2-2. If the pasta isn’t good, you can still stay here and I’ll drop out of cooking club. I was never that interested in the first place.”

The corner of Sho’s mouth lifts into a small crooked smile. He looks like he’s still not entirely sure with what’s happening (Jun feels the same way too though he’s struggling to not openly stare at any point on Sho’s face – like his astonishingly good-looking mouth in spite of of its rodent likeliness) but he seems to have come to a decision when he finally takes the fork from Jun.

“Sakurai Sho. Class 3-1,” the older boy divulges with a small smile and in bated breath, Jun watches him fork the pasta and eat.

 

*

 

Sakurai Sho, Jun learns, is a straight-A student and unsurprisingly popular among his peers.

He’s a member of the journalism club and although he says he’s never been interested in that sort of thing, he’s ridiculously good at it (which earns him the nickname Sakurai-caster, much to the older boy’s embarrassment). Another thing Jun learns is that he’s also good at becoming Lab Coat’s guinea pig on his not-so lucky days. (Jun wonders how did that happen and much to his disappointment, all he gets out of a dripping Sho is a long wistful sigh after what looks like a failed attempt at an experiment involving a boat made out of cardboard). On top of that, Sho is smart, reliable and comes from an impressive family background and apparently it’s this which makes him a rebellious little shit.

In a passive-aggressive way, of course.

“I mean I get that studying is important and shit but is intelligence really linked to how a guy looks?” Sho grumbles one day when they were making their way to the school canteen for curry bread. “Like, fuck that noise. You know when I got home the other day, my dad gave me  _ _the__ dirtiest look because I bleached my hair. Hah, he’s totally pissed off!”

“Hey, Matsumoto-kun. Be honest with me. Does it  _ _really__ matter if I eat like a pig?” whines Sho on another day. He’s stuffing his cheeks with the leftover omelet rice Jun had packed from his cooking club. (Jun disagrees though. He thinks Sho looks more like a bleach-blond gluttonous hamster more than anything and it’s a spectacular sight). “What sort of guy behaves and eats like the queen of England, right? It’s bullshit. So at my mother’s dinner event last night, I belched so loudly at the table I’m surprised nobody puked into their soup. You should’ve seen the look on her face! She looked like she really wanted to strangle me! It was hilarious!”

“I swear I’m fucking done with them, Ma-kun. They’re now pushing me to fitcram schoolinto my 24 hour schedule! I don’t even have time to mess around, man! I’m a growing boy! I have needs!” Sho explodes one late afternoon when they both skipped their respective after school club activities. They’re both lying on their backs on the bleachers, watching the orange-red rays paint the skies above them. Sho’s ipod sits between their heads and they’re both listening to the latest single from The Black Eyed Peas. (Jun has no idea what they’re singing about and the rapping makes his head spin from trying to keep up but he likes this. Likes lying on this bench and feeling Sho drum his fingers rhythmically against the hard surface as he listens to the sound of Sho's wonderful fruity voice). “I’m just going to piss them off by ditching school and coming home early with éclairs.”

In spite of all this, Jun notes how Sakurai Sho never fails to walk home before the sundown and he is ever so polite and sincerely respectful to his parents whenever Jun comes over. For all his obnoxious gung-ho talk and bad boy image, Jun can see the limitless unadulterated care Sho gives to his family. Jun sees how he spoils his younger sister, listening to her melodramatic middle-school girl problems and helping her with her homework. How he patiently caters to every demand of his baby brother, even if he gets kicked in the face during a tantrum or is vomited on. How in spite of his lack of cooking skills, he does his best to ensure that dinner is on the table by seven whenever his parents are working late and leaves some aside for them to eat. (Sadly, Jun doubts they would though because Sho has a tendency to undercook vegetables and overcook meat but he feels warm and fuzzy at Sho’s wonderful paternal gestures).

“Hey. You don’t need to do anything,” Sho feebly protests one night when Jun dutifully stands beside him to wipe the dishes.

“Dinner was really good,” Jun tells him and he means it. “Thank you.”

From the corner of his eye, he revels at the sight of Sho’s cheeks turning a little pink. “The onions were burnt, Macchan,” Sho mumbles defiantly.

A flutter of excitement takes place in Jun’s stomach. He isn’t obsessed or anything but over the span of their five-week old friendship, Jun can't help but notice that Sho is already at that comfortable stage of calling him  _Macchan_ _ _._ _ That is huge. Progress, even.

“You seasoned it perfectly,” Jun says giddily with a wide smile. “That’s what happens when you cook with love.”

Sho sniffs, his nose quirking up one side endearingly. It's an apparent nervous tick Jun has picked up on in their friendship and he notices how Sho is still rinsing the plate he’s holding even after all the soap suds have been washed off. “Is that why everything you make tastes so good?” Sho asks in a quiet voice after some time. “Because you’re making it for someone you love?”

Jun’s heart skips a beat and just like that the atmosphere between them abruptly shifts at the drop of a hat. Sho has said something different just now and they're both aware of it. They’re suddenly skirting along the line of their friendship, something which seems to have occurred unwarranted but is not unwelcomed. Jun’s mind is racing with a million and one thoughts as Sho makes no indication of elaborating further – well, he made it perfectly clear, didn’t he? – and deciding to humour the other boy, he keeps his gaze trained on the red tea towel he’s playing with in his hands. Runs a finger across a particular fray in the corner of the cloth to keep himself in check because he doesn’t want the bundle of nervous energy inside him to explode and cause him to do something stupid.

“Yes,” he admits quietly and adds, “I put my all when I cook for that person because when they take that first bite, the happiness on their face is all that matters.” He doesn't dare say  _Sho-san_ just yet.

It takes three long seconds before Sho finally moves. His shoulders visibly relax and he rinses the plate for the fourth time. “Is that how it is?”

Jun swallows, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. “Yeah. The stronger that feeling is, the more delightful. Like art. Passion in a tangible form. All because of a muse.” Because at that very moment in time and throughout all those weeks of getting to know each another, nothing seemed to matter more to Jun than the look of approval on Sho’s face after he’s taken a good big bite of whatever Jun wholeheartedly prepares. He wonders then if Sho was a little bit like him. Did he look on expectantly for Jun’s approval when he served dinner? Was that why he was suddenly asking him all of these questions? The thought of it almost makes him reel.

“Thanks,” Sho tells him and Jun tightens his clasp on the tea towel.

It isn't much and it could mean anything really but Jun can feel his heart soar because he knows that they're definitely having a moment right now. The way Sho subtly shifts his weight and moves a little closer into Jun's space all but confirms it. He tries to contain the all too-wide grin he knows is already on his face and gently pries the plate out of Sho’s fingers. “Besides, I don’t think there’s any better sight than indulging a glutton,” he finishes cheekily.

Sho elbows him in the ribs. “Piss off.”

Jun bursts out laughing and he hates how ugly and braying he sounds – it’s  _ _nothing__ compared to Sho’s marvelous hearty one – but Sho’s warm eyes are twinkling and so full of delight. He can feel the air between them shift again and Jun resists the dizzying urge to reach over and kiss his stupid round face.

 

*

 

“You’re exquisite,” Jun blurts out one evening and he’s never believed those words to ring so much truer until it has gracelessly tumbled out of his big mouth like this.

Sho is in the middle of stuffing three glazed scallops into his mouth – Jun almost sighs dreamily and shit that’s how stupidly lovestruck he is now, he realises – and the moment they’re all in, he says “You think so?” with his mouth so full that it's a wonder nothing tumbles out.

Jun blinks at him dazedly, his brain taking its time to catch up with he just said. The moment it finally does settle in and his brain registers the apparent shithole he’s suddenly dug himself into, he freezes up . His stomach clenches nauseatingly. Sho’s chewing slowly and he’s giving him a look that is  _ _indiscernible__ that it makes Jun think,  _oh shit_ _ _._ _

He stands up abruptly, his chair scraping noisily across the floor. He feels his stomach drop to his feet, to the linoleum floor of the home economics room and a strangled noise leaves his throat. “I – I was – I just –” he stutters weakly before he snaps his mouth shut. Sho’s a sharp boy and Jun knows that it’s futile to try to correct himself. He looks at Sho worriedly and wonders if this is the end of something that had never really begun.

Almost an eternity passes before Sho finally swallows and Jun hates this part of Sho sometimes, he realises. The unnatural silences he unintentionally drops between them, all of which are neither awkward nor meaningful. However instead of the bombardment of questions Jun braces himself for, Sho surprises him by simply stating, “It’s only fair that I tell you that you’re remarkable, then.”

Jun stares at him, dumbstruck. Beyond the open window of the home economics room, a raucous cheer erupts and reverberates from the football field.

“ _ _Remarkable__ ,” Sho repeats, this time in English. Jun follows his smooth movement of Sho's hand as he reaches over and pops another scallop into his mouth with his butter-glazed fingers.

“Oh,” Jun says breathlessly.

Remarkable. Sho thinks he’s remarkable.

That’s a greater word than exquisite, isn’t it?

Jun beams and Sho laughs cheerfully, pleased that Jun is quick on his feet to catch on to Sho's unexpected subtleties. He only remembers at the last minute to cover his mouth when bits of scallop fly out and land on Jun’s sleeve. Apologising, he brushes the food bits off contritely but Jun pays no attention to it. He's on cloud nine, blissfully replaying Sho’s accented drawl of ‘remarkable’ over and over in his head like the broken record he often hears whenever he passes that one cosy little cafe at the corner of Shinjuku. He thinks maybe he'll bring Sho there one day but for now, he's content with watching Sho sit across him, snorting ingloriously behind his hand with nothing but a plate of Jun's scallops resting between them. It's Sho's favourite food, he takes note.

 

*

 

“I looked through a food magazine at home the other day. There were articles about shops and successful chefs in it and such,” Sho is going as he absently rolls a spatula between his hands but trails off, suddenly looking embarrassed. When Jun meets his gaze inquiringly, he seems to steel himself and ends up telling Jun rather resolutely, “I'll want to write about you one day, Macchan.”

“You want to be a journalist?” Jun asks with surprise. For the past few days, Sho has been staring disdainfully at the ‘future career plan’ form and Jun hasn’t been able to hold a proper conversation with him due to how moody and distracted he was.

“Food writer,” corrects Sho with a little bit of smugness.

“Really? That sounds amazing!”

“Oh,” Sho rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and sniffs. “Well, I’ll be going to university first of course. My parents have been nagging about degree choices and I reckon I might go to that direction. It’s a respectable career, I’d like to think.”

“Absolutely,” Jun chirpily agrees before he carefully removes the glass bowl of melted dark chocolate out of the bain-marie. Today’s the first time he’s practicing how to temper chocolate without a marble slab since the school doesn’t provide one and he’s actively going over the methods in his head as he works and talks. “I'm certain you’d do really well, Sho-san. I read your articles in the school paper and you’re just, well, really good.  In writing and when you talk too! You can exactly describe the things that I make even when I don't know how to. You're just brilliant like that.”  Jun reaches out and slaps Sho’s hand which was poking a finger into the chocolate. “It’s not done yet!”

Sho stares at him wide-eyed, looking confused and guilty for a moment.

“You can't just touch things that aren't done yet,” Jun chides. “You'll ruin it.”

Sho pulls a face. “Well I'm not sorry. You of all people should know I can’t help myself. Your food's always phenomenal,” he says sulkily before he sticks his chocolate-dipped finger into his mouth. The grimace which erupts across Sho’s face is priceless _ _._ _

“I told you. Not done yet,” Jun mumbles, flushing a little because be still his heart, Sho called his food  _ _phenomenal__.

“Ughh. This is ghoulishly bitter.”

“Just ghoulishly? I expected better, Sho-san.”

“You little shit. You know I'm not that good at describing deserts.”

But Sho’s mouth is curled into a smile as he says this and the corners of his round eyes crinkle wonderfully behind his fringe. Jun doesn’t believe he can fathom any other image that’s as beautiful as this right now – the glorious smile Sho’s directing to him and only him, even after he’s just eaten some disgustingly bitter chocolate – and he commits it to memory, gradual and steady like a still photograph that's developing in the dark.

 

*

 

It happens suddenly and yet not unexpectedly, that Sho dates a girl from Class 2-3.

Jun is not bothered.

Because when Sho spends less time with him and more with her during school (Jun has decided to call her Ninosan because he seriously thinks that it’s the most innovative thing he’s come up with so far), he makes it up to Jun by accompanying him to the public library during some weekends so that they both could find new recipes for Jun to try (and Sho to greedily savour).

It doesn’t bother him to see Ninosan cling to Sho’s arm like a slippery octopus and giggling uncontrollably at a grating pitch down the corridors because it's after school that Sho would always end up gravitating to the home economics room where Jun is preparing ingredients and waiting with a smile.

It doesn't bother him that Ninosan emails Sho almost every two minutes when they aren't physically next to each other together because at the end of the day, Sho always sends him a short but meaningful _goodnight Macchan_ __ to Jun's phone just as he's about to fall asleep.

And on the occasions when Sho meets up with Jun after school with kiss-swollen lips and a rumpled uniform, Jun easily sets aside his envy towards Ninosan because the apologetic look and the sincere offer to treat Jun at their favourite soba restaurant as they jostle shoulders while walking closely together is so much  _ _more__. (Plus, watching Sho's profile as he slurps up his noodles with no reserve fills Jun with so much love for this boy he's only gotten to know over the last few months. The sight makes his heart swell and he ends up giving away his boiled egg which earns him an affectionate ruffle to his hair).

“Is it normal for a guy to spend lots of time with his friend just as he does with his girlfriend?” Jun asks his sister cryptically one evening when they're sitting in front of the television, watching a famous five member idol group make absolute fools of themselves on national television.

Smiling knowingly, she gives him a tinkling laugh as she jabs her spoon into her yogurt.

“Well, that means that friendship is obviously a special one then, isn't it?”

Jun purses his lips into a thin line and stares down at his own yogurt with so much fondness that it actually earns him a kick from her just as one of the idols on television squawks about unwarranted violence.

 

*

 

It happens suddenly and yet not unexpectedly, that Ninosan breaks up with Sho.

It's a little before sundown when Jun receives a curt email from Sho about the split and he quickly meets him at the bleachers where a slouching Sho sits fiddling with his ipod. He looks so miserable, even after Jun hands him a small box of chocolates - a variety of hand-rolled truffles - he had finally created with success.

“Sho-san.”

Sho looks up and he gives Jun the most poor attempt of a smile he's ever seen.

“Hey.”

Three pieces and a long brooding silence later, Sho suddenly leans forward and clumsily bumps his mouth against Jun’s. His lips aren’t properly aligned with Jun’s because they’re trembling so much and while it annoys him a little bit (it's their first kiss after all), Jun can’t help but press his face a little closer until his teeth jut awkwardly into Sho’s bottom lip. He can taste the cocoa powder on the seams of Sho’s lips and his heart goes thump, thump, thump, thump. The faraway noise of traffic in the cool evening does nothing to distract him from the way the tip of Sho’s nose nudges awkwardly against his cheek. Jun's heart is hammering so hard against his chest and dizzily he thinks he can feel Sho's too.

“What did I do wrong?” Sho finally asks against his lips when he pulls away slightly. He sounds awful and weary.

“Nothing,” Jun reassures, swallowing as he tries to calm himself and not ascend to seventh heaven too quickly.  He curls his fingers into the folds of his trousers, keeping them there because he can't trust himself.  “Ni – She doesn’t deserve you.”

“But she’s the first girl that I've –” Sho stops and he squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling. A wave of regret seems to pass through him when he says this and Jun picks up on it. He's quick to notice the little signs with Sho like the tenseness in his neck and jaw and a spark of angry jealousy ignites in Jun when he knows exactly what Sho has stopped himself from saying.  Damn it.

Jun pushes back against Sho's mouth in the foolish notion that he thinks he's able to chase away the phantom kisses Ninosan left by replacing them with his own. He knows his aren't perfect. Hell, they're probably the worst Sho's ever received. But there's a lick of desire burning in Jun which is desperately eager to stamp out the shame and misery out of Sho and right now Jun knows what he needs are not words but action. He's a mature boy who strides forward with his head held up but his feet firmly planted on the ground. What happened with Ninosan, whatever she had said to him had obviously knocked him off his feet and now he's sitting on the ground and staring aimlessly ahead with nobody but Jun in front of him.

“Not the last,” Jun growls defiantly. "Because I'm here."  He's here because Sho wants him to be.  Even if it's just to fill in the void Ninosan had selfishly left.

Sho says nothing after that but he presses back against Jun's mouth, his fingers grasping Jun's chin to tilt his head so that their lips slot into place. It's still not a perfect fit as Sho's lips are plump and Jun's are just so horribly uneven but it nevertheless makes a shudder run down Jun's spine in the most incredible way. After a moment, he feels Sho's other hand find purchase on his forearm and he holds it firmly with shaky fingers like he's afraid Jun would disappear anytime soon.

Jun reaches up and gives his hand a reassuring clasp.

As if that would ever happen.

 

*

 

It happens suddenly and yet not unexpectedly, that Sho begins acting more like the bad boy he had constructed himself to look.

It bothers Jun.

Because when Jun is busy learning and practicing tricky dishes as the semester progresses, Sho seldom drops by to the home economics room as he goes off flirting with girls who have long been trying to get his attention (and into his trousers, for that matter). It's no secret, really, that Sho goes out with lots of girls after school, especially after news of his and Ninosan's breakup spreads like wildfire. No one really knows who was at fault but Sho's loyal following were quick to point the finger at Ninosan and her lack of remorse now that she's dating another boy in Sho's class who has bigger muscles than both Jun and Sho combined. Jun often catches the venom in Sho's eyes whenever Ninosan passes by and it's frightening. Ever since Ninosan, Sho has become increasingly temperamental and hot-headed. He's like fire which catches and burns easily if one doesn't handle him carefully.

Fortunately, his grades have not slipped. If anything, they seem to be climbing just as his attitude has. Jun often catches the excited whispers from the juniors about how the teachers were constantly getting headaches because of Sho's brusqueness but they can't do anything about it due to his impeccable school record.

 _He's so untouchable_ _ _,__ they all say.  _ _He's become so much cooler._ _

_No_ _ _,__ Jun thinks.  _ _He's spiralling out of control._ _

The only person who shares Jun's quiet concern is Sho's mother.

“Rotten old hag,” Sho spits poisonously one day as he forcefully snaps his cellphone shut and slams it on the table between them. It's one of the odd days where Sho turns up to Jun's kitchen space and says he wants to watch Jun cook. “Isn't it enough that I've already done everything she wants me to do? 'Your dad and I still expect you to go to cram school, in spite of your grades'? Fuck everything. This is bullshit.”

Jun stays quiet, his hands moving deftly across the counter-top as he chops some cabbage. He lets Sho rant and curse until he runs out of fuel and is finally slumped in his seat, staring off into space with a perpetual scowl on his face. His newly pierced ear is still pink, the silver ring gleaming under the fluorescent light. Jun tries not to stare even though it looks devastatingly good on him.

Sho lets out an aggravated sigh and Jun instinctively knows that Sho didn't come here to just rant. So he lowers the heat on the cooker before wordlessly going over to sit on the stool next to the older boy. They don't look at each other. A torrent of warmth passes the small space between them and the sound of water bubbling in the pot is lulling.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

Sho leans over just as Jun turns his head. The distance between them is shortened as their lips meet.

“It's too much,” Sho tells in a tired voice. He rests his forehead against Jun's. “Tests, cram school, then there's girls, stuff happening at home.”

“I'm always with you,” Jun tells him immediately in a soft voice and that's perhaps the closest thing to a confession that Jun will ever be able to muster at this point in time. There's enough on Sho's plate and Jun isn't self-centered enough to want more than what he has right now, even if he yearns for it desperately. “I'll always be.”

Sho's not looking at him but Jun thinks he sees something shining in his eyes as he stares intensely at a certain point near Jun's mouth.

“Huh.”

When Sho finally glances up, he manages a small smile towards Jun and it's one that is the closest he's seen of Sho since before Ninosan. Jun looks back at him and it feels so strange when their gazes connect like this. It's so intimate and Jun thinks he can see both everything and nothing in the dark hues of Sho's eyes.

“Remarkable,” is all Sho says after a bout of silence and Jun lights up, returning the other boy's smile twofold.

 __Stay gold, Sho-san__ , he thinks earnestly as they share another kiss.   _ _You're exquisite._ _

 

*

 

“Hey, Matsumoto,” one of his classmates – Akanishi, he recalls – calls out to him as they're about to leave the classroom for after school activities. “You were close to Sakurai-senpai, weren't you?”

Jun quirks his brow, shouldering his bag.   _Were_ __.__ Akanishi used the word  _were_ _ _._ _ At an earlier point in life, Jun wouldn't notice such a thing because he would simply think nothing of it. But ever since he's hung around Sho and his wonderful cleverness, he's started to pay attention to words and the certain uses of certain words that he can't help but cling on to that one portion of a sentence which sticks out so glaringly to him. Were.

Jun shrugs halfheartedly in response and asks “Is something the matter?” only because it was courteous to do so.

Akanishi grins wickedly. “Aren't you jealous though? Since he doesn't seem to have time to play favourites with juniors anymore. Well, unless you've got banging tits.” He snickers. Jun purses his mouth. “Kind of a relief to see that Sakurai is still as human as the rest of us, eh?”

“He's not playing favourites.”

Akanishi blinks and he actually looks surprised at this that it makes Jun's stomach churn horribly. “You're actually friends?” he asks, painfully blunt.

(Friends. Jun latches onto this word quickly and he examines it with speculation because he doesn't believe this word is applicable to what he and Sho have now. The nature of their bond has evolved because he and Sho are more than that, he ascertains dizzily.)

Slowly, Jun nods.

Akanishi purses his lips into a thin line and for some reason gives Jun a pitying look. “Well, shit. Sucks to be you, I guess.” He shoulders his bag and gives an awkward pat to Jun's shoulder before leaving the room.

Jun remains rooted to the spot and he stares across the emptying classroom, feeling all sorts of things and nothing at the same time as he hears Akanishi's words echo like the broken record he sometimes hears when he and Sho drop by that cosy cafe at the corner of Shinjuku. It goes round and round and round and Jun lets out a breath as he says to no one in particular, “We're going out.”

 

*

 

“What the hell are you talking about? Us dating? You and I never fucked. Don’t think about such disgusting things, moron.”

And just like that, Jun’s heart stutters like a failing car engine and breaks.

He stares at Sho with eyes unseeing and ears unhearing. Takes in the wild distracted look in Sho’s eyes, the tenseness which pinches around his mouth and just how __cold_ _ everything around him feels.

Jun’s breath comes out in a shaky huff. “So all the time we spent together. Those kisses. They were nothing?” His voice is just as hollow as how he feels.

Sho rears back and is looking at him with wide eyes, as if it’s Jun who isn’t the one making sense here. “Excuse me?”

“Us,” Jun spits out the word like a curse, his tone challenging. “We’re nothing?”

Sho doesn’t say anything.  He's falling into that stupid frustrating  _ _silence__ and – no. No, fuck that bullshit.

Jun’s patience runs thin and instantly snaps. All the anxiety that has been building up in him over the past weeks – ever since Akanishi used stupid insinuating words like  _ _were__ and  _friend_ __–_ _  finally spills over and he blindly reaches out.  He shoves Sho’s shoulder.

“Don’t _ _screw__  with me!”

Sho reacts instantly. It could have been his voice – the way the words explodes out of his mouth, loud and piercing in the night – which spurs the older boy to raise his own hand and shove it right back at Jun's own shoulder with more force. “Cut it out! You’re fucking gross!” he cries out.

“Gross?” The side of Jun’s mouth lifts up into a sardonic smile and in bravado, he challenges with a soft, "Really?"

Sho positively fumes at this. His lips are pursed but he stubbornly keeps his mouth shut. His face is flushed so red that it almost matches his recently dyed copper hair. Jun wants to laugh. So he does and it's a harsh painful sound because the absurdity of the situation is catching up to him, making his mind reel. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting so openly fierce like this.  It isn’t in his nature - sure, he's a passionate person but he's not as explosive as this - and he's certain Sho’s well aware of it.

He continues to stare at Sho imploringly but the older boy maintains his listlessness, refusing to speak.

So fucking stubborn.

 _But it's not Sho's fault_ , the traitorous little voice in the back of Jun's head reasons.  It's his.  It's always been his because he's in too deep.  It's him who's fallen so hopelessly in love with this exquisite boy who has a way with words and eats like a horrible goblin but is dazzling like the last stars at dawn.  Ever since the beginning, he's always been perpetually fucked because somehow along the way Sakurai Sho has started becoming his  _raison d'être_.

“You're an asshole,” Jun says hoarsely, just because he feels like he should have the last word. Because the way Sho's looking at him with those eyes of his - once cleverly appraising but now brutally condescending - makes him feel so horribly small and irritated with how stupid all of this is. He can't believe that it's now all come down to this with the two of them standing near Shibuya river at night with Jun's bento box tightly clasped in Sho's hand and Jun's heart broken and trampled on the ground between them.

Sho still doesn’t say anything. No surprise there. But what he does do, which warrants Jun's disbelief, is raise the bento Jun had prepared for him – butter-glazed scallops, Sho’s favourite – and tips the contents into the river below them. Jun's stomach lurches and he watches Sho's face, steely and ruthlessly impassive, in numb shock until he hears the final scallop drops into the water with a faint sickening plop. Sho doesn't stop there though.  Almost as a polite afterthought, he releases his grip on Jun's bento box and lets it falls into the river. It lands with a dull splash.

“And you’re nothing but a second-rate chef who’ll never reach the top.”

The feeling that knocks into Jun – anger, sadness, crushing disappointment – hits him so hard in the gut. Jun lets out a shaky pained breath, clenches his fists but firmly stands his ground. He glares hard at Sho and it takes a lot of willpower on his part to not punch that stupid round face and that smart mouth of his because  _how dare he_ _ _._ _ After all this time how fucking  _ _dare__ he.

“You're a fucking asshole,” he grits out in a surprisingly level voice. He sees how Sho is trying so hard to not let his nose quirk up to the side and Jun almost smiles. “Good luck on getting far with that ten-foot pole up your ass. I’m sure precious daddy will always buy your way through.”

“Fuck you, Matsumoto.”

 

*

 

It's unsurprising that Sho finishes high school with flying colours.

Jun walks out of the school gates and adjusts his overgrown floppy hair for the umpteenth time that morning. He doesn't want to be in the vicinity, doesn't want to be awkwardly standing around and wildly hoping like those silly girls.

It's been  _ _months_ _ after all.

Jun walks on and with each step he takes his heart feels heavier, like it's reminding him that he's left something behind. He probably has – he's left so much behind after that night in Shibuya – because it's taking so much willpower for him to not just turn around and run back.   _ _Because maybe__ , that stupid little voice in the back of Jun's mind persists,   __maybe Sho-san is waiting. Maybe he'll give you his button.  It's not much but at least it's something –_ _

“What's eating you?”

Jun stops in his tracks and instantly he's back to where he is, out of his ridiculous thoughts and standing in the middle of a strip mall. He's far away from the stuffy auditorium where Sho's graduation is taking place. He looks up and finds himself looking up into the face of a shrewd-looking boy who's wearing the most garish assembly of clothing he has ever seen in his life. There's a plastic bag hanging off his arm like an accessory and a ghost of a smile on his lips. Jun notices that it's from the game shop down the corner.

“Fuck off,” he snaps quite rudely.

The boy looks unfazed by Jun's hostility and shifts his weight to his other leg. “I'm Nino,” he tells him coolly with that secret smile of his and pauses, almost dramatically. As if he just  _knows_ __._ _

Jun's eyes widens in shock but he doesn't dare say anything, doesn't dare read the signs. Jun's not superstitious but he feels an overwhelming itch to turn around and leave because his gut is telling him that being acquainted with this odd person at this odd time and with  _ _that__ name seems far too coincidental to be a simple fluke. It's an omen, this is.

The boy – Nino – seems to take Jun's silence as his cue. “Let's get some ramen,” he suggests assertively as he swings his plastic bag. He's walking forward and Jun for some reason falls in step with him. “There's this cool place with great offers so let's go to that. Stop giving me that look. Not even a stupid heartbreak can stop the beckoning of ramen, yeah?”

At the end of the day, when Jun settles in bed, he adds Nino's email address but struggles to remove Sho's from his contact list.

 _It'll get better_ _ _,__ is the first email Nino immediately sends him but Jun stubbornly waits for one last time, staring at the screen and wildly hoping because  _ _who knows, what if._ _ But nothing arrives just as Nino bets and like before.  Since Shibuya, Sho has not contacted him since.  Has no reason to really.  Jun closes his eyes and he knows this is it.  This is where it has to stop.  This is where he knows that he's now the person that Sho had once been when Ninosan had knocked him off his feet.  He's now the one sitting on the ground and staring aimlessly ahead with nobody in front of him.  Like a prolonged injury, it only begins to smart when he's come to a standstill.

__It'll get better._ _

Sho's a mature boy who strides forward with his head held up and his feet firmly planted on the ground. Like Akanishi said, he doesn't have time to play favourites with juniors anymore. He's going to university to be a food writer. He's already three steps ahead of Jun and after Shibuya, he'll never look back.

__It'll get better._ _

With a pained sigh, Jun forces himself to press 'Remove'.

The second email Nino sends him that night is an address to a website with a list of culinary schools in the country.

Jun doesn't reply to it, doesn't want to think of the impeccable sense of timing Nino seems to mysteriously have. But he spends the rest of his sleepless night researching on the schools fervidly and it's only at the break of dawn when Jun is red-eyed and sprawled across the middle of his bed that he decides fuck getting better.  Fuck sitting around and staring aimlessly ahead.  Fuck feeling so fucking low because if Sakurai Sho can be three steps ahead of him, can cruelly break his heart and say that nothing has ever happened between them, then Jun can catch up to him and trip him over. He'll damn well make sure that he'll become the best culinary artist out there and make Sakurai Sho eat his damn words. Even if he that means he has to fight dirty.  All is fair in love and war, after all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Jun and Nino friendship.
> 
> Or rather, how Jun discovers that Nino is nothing but a piece of shit who probably works for the secret police and likes to do nothing but play Mario Kart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, commenting and kudoing(?). I'm thrilled!
> 
> Right, we've got a fairly short chapter here with snippets of Jun and Nino's friendship after Sho left. Because, you know, we all love a bit of background before we sink our teeth into the good stuff. I apologise if their dynamics are not on point as of yet. Their friendship here is a little bit based on my own with a dear friend of mine - it's tryingly snarky with a casual co-dependency but downright amazing in the most unexpected of times. I like me a bit of Matsumiya friendship. They're freaking aces.
> 
> That said, if you're curious, the academy they attended in this fic is heavily inspired by a culinary college in Japan called Tsuji and its two year Confectionery course.

 

Ninomiya Kazunari, Jun realises, is nothing but an elusive piece of shit and he tells this straight to his face when he finds out that Nino has also enrolled into the same patisserie college in Osaka.

“Afraid I might outshine you?” Nino smirks.

Jun keeps the deadpan look trained on his face, inwardly pleased that it doesn't slip under Nino's amused look. He's practised for a while after all. “If you burn the school down before I can graduate, I will kill you,” he warns.

Nino laughs and it's a sharp sound which comes across like a hybrid yelp-sneeze. After that, he never tells Jun why he enrolled in spite of having no real interest as all he does to chat up cute girls and strum his guitar between classes. Jun doesn't question him. He doesn't really care what Nino does so long as he doesn't come between him and his goal. Nino, though miffed with how serious Jun is all the time, seems to be content with this quiet acceptance on Jun's part.

“You know what, J? If you keep scowling like that, your eyebrows are definitely going to take over your face.”

“I swear your asshole has got to be jealous by the amount of shit that comes out of your mouth.”

Even if they are snarky to each other on most days.

 

*

 

“So that person loves chocolate then,” Nino suddenly concludes one rainy day when he's watching the precise movements of Jun's hand as it scrapes chocolate off the moulding tray with a triangular palette knife. It's only been only two weeks into the course and Jun's already begun practising on his own in the discretion of their shared flat.

(Despite initially dreading the fact that he'll be spending the next two years studying _and_ living with Nino, Jun's pleasantly surprised to find that the guy isn't a terrible roommate. Aside from being a nosy gossip-mongering shitstain, Nino keeps to himself just as Jun does. It's a unspoken understanding between them – something Jun realises had occurred the moment they first met – and wordlessly they tap into a self-sufficient co-dependency. Jun often feels blessed to have befriended the strange creature that Nino is but he'll never tell that to his face.)

Jun pauses and glances up at Nino, unable to keep the surprise off his face. “What?”

“That person,” Nino repeats in that languid drawl of his. He's put down his guitar some time ago and is now perching his chin on the edge of the kitchen counter. A finger aimlessly running across a small curl of chocolate near him. “It's why you're studying chocolates instead.”

Instead. Jun notices the word, the use of it as well as the assumption Nino's already placed behind his close-ended statement.

In their two year friendship, Jun has learnt that while he continues to always be an annoying piece of shit to him, Nino is disarmingly perceptive and observant in spite of the lazy-ass front he puts up. There's acuity in his bright eyes and the look that he's shooting Jun over the small chocolate curls confirms that Nino isn't beating around the bush nor will he fall into any horseshit Jun plans to throw at him. Nino knows the jig so he's now asking for details.

“Not really.” Jun turns back to his chocolate moulds and he recalls a memory of him and Sho sitting around in the home economics room. The way Sho's nose wrinkles at the taste of dark chocolate and the rich belly laugh he makes when something tickles his fancy still fresh in his mind's eye, like it was just yesterday and not two years ago. “It's just the one thing he's absolutely shit at describing.” He pushes his palette knife hard. Half of the chocolate moulds crack.

He's expecting some sort of provocative snark to come out of Nino's smart mouth so when Nino doesn't say anything for a while, Jun gives up mindlessly scraping to spare another glance at the young man.

Nino doesn't look judgemental nor surprised by what Jun said. If anything, he just looks oddly contemplative. Like he's piecing things together and has taken it upon himself to figure everything out. The notion doesn't sit well with Jun and before he could tell him off for it, Nino's already saying, “In other words, you're trying to one-up him by going right for the knees.”

“Throat,” corrects Jun. Nino's mouth splits into a wicked grin.

“Cold-blooded, J.”

Jun's gaze hardens but doesn't say anything else. He goes back to scraping the last rows of his disfigured chocolate moulds with each scrape harsher than the last.

 

*

 

It's a week before their joint project assessment when Nino slinks up to Jun's side and rudely shoos a girl who Jun's taken an interest in. He smacks the back of Nino's head in frustration when she leaves in a huff and is about to severely tell him off for being such a ill-timed cockblock when Nino magically procures Jun's cellphone in one hand and shoves it into his face.

“Damn it, what are you–” Jun blinks at the bright screen and squints at it when Nino refuses to move his arm. He's surprisingly strong for someone who doesn't eat or exercise much. It takes a while for Jun to make out that he's currently looking at a photograph of a group of students in a nightclub but it doesn't take him more than three seconds for his gaze to settle on one particular individual who's shamelessly lifted his sleeveless shirt to reveal his navel. His pierced navel. Jun's heart pounds harshly against his ribs at the same time his stomach churns at the sight of wild copper-blond hair.

“What the fuck,” Jun croaks. His throat feels too dry all of a sudden because fucking hell that is Sakurai Sho isn't it and fuck he looks so different. And _good_.

Nino finally retracts his arm and fiddles with the phone, punching the soft buttons mercilessly. The look on his face shows that he's disinterested but Jun knows that it's clearly otherwise. Nino is very much interested in 'the asshole who can't do chocolates'. “He was studying economics until about a month ago,” he begins narratively. “Then he dropped it like it was no big deal. A year in, doing well and then a sudden decision to switch. So now he's doing journalism but there's word saying that he's also dabbling in some culinary arts courses on the side as well.” He gives Jun a meaningful look, all wide eyes and brows arched.

Jun tries not to freak out as he hastily concludes that no Nino is not just a nosy gossip-mongering shitstain but rather that he's actually probably one of the state's secret police. (Later, Jun will pointedly ask him this in the middle of the cafeteria during lunch – he purposely chooses this place just in case Nino acted up and there will be witnesses – and Nino, the smug little shit, cackles and tells him that he's self-employed and “if you're ever in a tight spot with Sho-chan, just cough up the cash and we can sort something out, yeah?”. Jun will feel unsure if he should be angry, flattered or afraid).

“You still need to do your piece on the assignment,” he says slowly, attempting to divert with an accusatory voice. It doesn't work of course because Nino is anything but stubborn and he continues on without missing a beat.

“He's actually aware of you,” Nino says and there's a slight note of marvel in his tone which irks Jun a little. It's almost like he's praising Sho a little.

“Should I even be scared?” It comes out sneeringly than Jun intends but it gathers Nino's attention on to him. Nino opens his mouth like he's about to say something but stops to make way for the grin which creeps on his face.

“Revenge really is the best for healing, huh.”

 

*

 

Jun is in the middle of setting the table for dinner – he's made amazing spaghetti alle vongole, something which even a social recluse like Nino can't resist – when the man breezes into the kitchen with Jun's laptop precariously cradled in one hand while the other awkwardly types. He slides onto one of the stools and pays no mind to Jun, even though the man tuts at this after their dishes are finally served on their designated placemats. When Nino pays no slight attention to the artistic plating Jun had dedicated a whole three minutes to or offer a word of thanks (as usual), Jun pours himself a glass of Italian white wine - a home-warming gift from his family - and vexes the guy by giving him a glass of cool boiled water.

Tap, tap, tap.

“Congratulations for finding the table,” Jun begins dryly because Nino will only continue his sport of exasperating him in ignorance and silence if he leaves him be.

“I'm part sat nav, you know,” comes the immediate retort and Nino still doesn't look up from whatever it is he's doing with Jun's device.  Without looking, he takes a sip of water and doesn't cringe at the flat taste. “As much as you won't admit it, you know you can never live without me. I'm practically the sunshine of your life. Also, did you know Sho-chan has a blog? Fuck me, he really is smart with words, isn't he? And would you look that _jawline_? That is obscene.”

Jun's in the middle of sipping his wine - young, unoaked and wonderfully crisp with a fresh fruity note – when he chokes at Nino's words, sputtering ingloriously into his pasta. Nino remains still in front of Jun's laptop, clicking occasionally. The man gives him a winning smile.

“Don't worry, I've bookmarked it for you so you can jack off to his eating face. There's quite a number of them. Doesn't take that much to imagine really, considering he can fit, like, a filet mignon in his mouth.” To prove his point, Nino manhandles Jun's laptop to show him and _oh my god that is Sho trying to stuff steak into his mouth how can he even no I'm not imagining putting that mouth to better use fuck._

Jun shakily puts his wine glass down and makes the sound of a dying animal.

Gracefully, Nino reaches over and steals his Soave Classico. “You're fucking welcome.”

 

*

 

Jun will not admit it but he did check out Nino's bookmark later that night in the quiet of his bedroom after he succeeds in forcing the man to do the washing up. 

He spends the next five hours reading and familiarising himself with Sho's distinct way of writing and the criteria of his critiques – especially towards sweets – because this is where he learns how to play his cards right should they meet.

And no, he's certainly not appraising Sakurai Sho's obscene jawline.

 

*

 

After much urging by his tutor and a blunt order from Nino, Jun agrees to participate in the college's chocolate showpiece showcase. The theme is 'Dazzling'.

“Shit.”

Nino pats his bum. “Well. We all know who that is.”

The pressure to deliver builds on him throughout the two weeks following up to the final day and even though he's in a constant prissy mood, he feels awful when he observes that Nino has been mindful to stay out of his way. Nino is careful to keep his messes to his own spaces, even his socks are tucked away into his shoes instead of being scattered everywhere. They rarely meet on campus nowadays, much less so at home with Nino usually already holed up in his room by the time Jun returns from classes and part-time work at a small family-owned bakery.

Jun is grateful for this – he needs the space to think and work, god knows how many ideas he's already scrapped in the span of a few days – but he still feels like an absolute pisshead, especially when he finds the empty containers of convenience store bentos in the bin. As an appreciative slash apologetic gesture, Jun ensures that he cooks his meals in a larger quantity and leaves them in the fridge for Nino to eat. He leaves a direct message on a post-it – _If I see another FamiMart bento in the bin I will pour my fucking coffee on you –_ on Nino's door and the following days, he's pleased to find that there are no leftovers by the end of the day and, more importantly, no more store bought bentos in the bin. He does, however, find a post-it on his door which says, ' _You've lost half of the points I'd give you because of your shit plating'_ and a steaming cup of coffee on his desk astride the pages of sketches he'd done on his desk. Jun huffs – such a small mug! - but smiles nonetheless.

On the big day, Jun showcases a small simple chocolate showpiece, much to the surprise of everyone. It's fairly unassuming from afar but upon closer inspection, Jun's sculpture turns out to be entirely made up of glossy chocolate stars and jagged pieces of sugar glass that stick out here and there like thorns. It's a stunning piece that appears to 'glow' as you walk past, a subtle feature which prompted people to stop and take a second look.

Tucked in a corner of the gallery, Jun is nothing but a bundle of nerves waiting to fall apart. When Nino finally finds him, he slinks next to Jun and his hand quickly finds purchase on Jun's waist. It's an intimate sight, two men huddled closely and observing a piece from afar, but the weight of Nino's hand is comforting and it causes the tension in Jun's shoulders to quickly bleed away.  So he allows it.  Even leans a little closer into Nino's space until their shoulders touch.

“So that's what he's like,” Nino hums thoughtfully after a while, mouth quirking slightly into a tight smile. “Remarkable.”

“No,” Jun rectifies in a soft voice. He observes his piece, takes in the way it's dazzling in its subtle glow under the warmth of the downlight and he recalls the way Sho had looked on that night in Shibuya. Stretched, unstable and too bright. “He's exquisite.”

 _Beautiful, like a supernova_.

 

*

 

It isn't often that Jun stumbles home tipsy but when he does, it usually means that it's either he's in a really good mood or that something has gone tits up. He grins, pleased when he manages to insert his key in the first try but his mood plummets the moment he crosses the threshold and stumbles on the first step into the entryway. He floats through the air for a moment, his fingers brushing across that one prominent crack on the wall – Nino still needs to pay his share for the repair, his mind usefully reminds – before he hits the floor with a painful groan. So much for trying to sneak in quietly.

The light flickers on almost instantly. Jun makes an irritated grunt and hazily, he feels the weight of Nino's stare on the back of his sweaty head. It doesn't take a genius to know that Nino is most likely looking down at him with an irritated look. Or a bemused one. He can never really tell sometimes.

“You're still alive,” comes the dry greeting.

“Fuck off,” Jun grumbles into the floor. He's not in the mood for Nino's late night shenanigans. He may be drunk but that does not mean Jun is available to assist him in his spontaneous melody making sessions. He's a chocolatier, after all. One of the top ten in the entire college. But that's not good enough though. It's still not good enough. It's never good enough.

“Why aren't you off fucking some girl?” Nino deadpans and Jun can hear the muffled background music of his video game - Mario Kart, again? - filtrating through the flat. “Go back out there and celebrate.”

“There's nothing to celebrate.”

“You're in top ten, J. Out of three thousand students.”

“Yeah, well he wrote a special two page restaurant review for Honolulu Magazine. In _English_. It's only been a year and he's going to jet off to Hawaii for an internship.”

There's a small pause and then he hears Nino plop down to sit on the floor by his head. He doesn't say anything, which is good because Jun has been feeling edgy all night and it's about time he gets this off his chest anyway.

“He was always way ahead of the race,” he goes on. Laughs bitterly with a miserable sniffle and no, those aren't tears stinging in his eyes and no, his chest isn't tightening up with an overwhelming sense of dissatisfaction and hopelessness. It's the floor that's gross and sticky to his cheeks because Nino doesn't bother to mop it sometimes, the lazy fuck. “Never was a level playing field. It's just like what he said then. We've always been worlds apart. We don't orbit around each other. Hell, we're not even in the same system. Hard work isn't enough, you know. Nothing in this world is that straightforward. You need natural born talent to really stand out.”

“Bullshit.”

Nino sounds uncharacteristically soft. Weary, maybe. Perhaps he's thinking of throwing the towel in on this chocolatier business. Nino probably knows from the beginning, Jun's brain drunkenly reasons. He's only stuck around to show him that if something can't be done, then it absolutely can't be done. It's like watching a car crash. Nino knows that it's only time until Jun will crash and burn but he's mature to know that he can't stop that from happening. So he waits, ready to be the first one on sight and pull Jun out of the wreckage and slap him in the face for being blind. What good does it come to a guy who spends all his waking hours chasing after a heartbreak who's clearly moved on?

So maybe Jun should throw the towel in. Then he and Nino could actually form a band for all that music Nino's been stocking up all this time. Jun smiles mirthlessly. Nino's really prepared for the worst hasn't he? He really is such a brilliant little thing.

“Shit is real,” asserts Jun.

“Again, bullshit.”

Jun's brow wrinkles at that. He lifts his head and looks up at Nino. “If you think pretty words are going to make me feel better, you're severely wrong. This isn't like one of those video games you waste your time over.”

Nino stares hard at him and Jun, never one to back down, narrows his eyes. The tension between them snaps, however, when Nino suddenly reaches over and jabs his thumb right at the space between Jun's pinched brows.

“You're miserable and drunk and crying on the floor because your ex is doing legit shit. Fine, I can accept that,” he goes on to say, ignoring the indignant squawk Jun makes as he unceremoniously rubs at the skin to smooth out the crease Jun's forced there. “But you saying you got no talent? Fucking bullshit, Jun. You're talented _and_ hard-working. Probably the best that this school's ever had the fortune of accepting. Do you seriously think I'd stick around this long if you weren't something?”

No, the rational part of Jun's brain gradually supplies. Nino's a selfish son of a bitch. He won't stay around if there isn't anything in it for him.

He pushes Nino's hand off his forehead roughly but holds onto the man's wrist. Pulls it close and wordlessly gives it a small squeeze as he continues to give a hard stare back at Nino. Jun's not good with words, he knows. Try as he might to appear arrogant and learned with his lack of words, he's long took note of it ever since he's hung around brilliant people like Sho and Nino. But actions like this is straightforward in their meaning so he's appreciative when Nino pats the back of his hand in understanding.

“If you still believe that Sho-chan has the authority to judge you from his ivory tower, then do yourself a favour and shove that silver spoon right up his ass, you hear me? Get filthy rich and famous and then make me your proud associate. I reckon a 60:40 split is reasonable enough.”

Jun huffs and calls Nino a bloodsucking scoundrel but he tightens his grip around the man's wrist in promise. Nino simply gives him a small smile and offers him a stick of his imported Malboro.

And it feels like it's just like that night in darkness of his bedroom back in Tokyo, where Jun is lost in his own thoughts of getting better. Here, Jun sees himself rise to his feet and Nino's there brushing off the self-doubt that's long been weighing on his shoulders all these years. Nino isn't pulling him out of any wreckage but rather from a small stumble he's made and he slaps Jun's back to tells him to go on and catch up to Sho. He's promised to be the only who will trip him up after all.

 

*

 

It's a hot summer afternoon when Jun barges into Nino's room unannounced. He's not surprised to see the man uncomfortably curled at one corner of his unmade bed, eyes glued to the small screen of his Nintendo DS and his thumb jabbing across the buttons. Nino doesn't bother to greet him and neither does Jun as he cuts to the chase and demands, “What the fuck.”

Nino, unfailingly eager to find any means to exasperate Jun, takes his time and tests his patience. When Jun refuses to back down or leave, he finally peers up and has the cheek to smirk at him. “I'm pretty sure I was being transparent,” he tells unhelpfully.

“Is it because you're short on funds? We're both being selected _and_ sponsored so I don't see any good reason why you're throwing this away,” Jun remarks, crossing his arms. He sounds unreasonably accusatory but he can't reign in his emotions. He feels awfully betrayed, especially after he finds out from their faculty leader that Nino has actually rejected the offer to study at the Lyon campus in France.

“If you must know, I'm filthy rich actually,” Nino says snootily and his focus slips back to his video game again. Mario gives out an irritating cheer. “And I'm not throwing anything away if it's not in my interest.”

Jun huffs in disbelief, “You're saying that now? After all that hard work and taking that damn English test and when we're now close to graduating?”

“Especially now,” agrees Nino with a sage-like nod.

“Is this a joke?”

“You've got such little faith in me, J. I'm hurt.”

“ _You're_ hurt,” Jun scoffs and his unspoken words of _And what about me then_ hang heavy in the air between them. He notices Nino's brows pinch slightly and he continues on angrily, “Bit of a dick move, don't you think? You jump ship because that's the end of the line is it?” There's a horrible weight in the pit of his stomach and Jun hates it, hates the way he realises just how _attached_ he's become to Nino. In that frantic second he's desperately trying to think of ways to make Nino reconsider and go to Lyon because dammit why the fuck _now_?

Nino pauses. Closes his DS and looks up at Jun. There's a secret smile on his face like he's sharing a private joke with no one but himself and Jun's just about to lose it when the guy finally interrupts his train of thought by saying, “It's the start of yours. You'll be okay, so go. There's only two steps left between you.”

 

*

 

He goes. 

His family are discombobulated when they receive an international phone call from Jun who tells them that he's in France and he's likely to not come home until he's finished his training. His mother doesn't shed a tear (unbelievable, he expected screaming and banging), his father merely grunts (like he knows his stupid son was going to pull this stunt inevitably and was waiting for it to finally happen) and his sister is cackling (mostly delighted and eager to break his bank account with her shopping requests). Either way, it was a quiet affair with all them wishing him the best and he's eternally grateful with how respectful and supportive they've always been with his decisions in life.

He doesn't call Nino.

Two days later he discovers an envelope that had been slipped in his luggage. There's no name on it but there's a thick wad of Euros inside and a small note which simply says in a familiar awful scrawl, _You're fucking welcome._

Jun sits on the floor in numb shock and then spends the next twenty minutes with his face pressed against the notes, crying.

“You little shit,” he whispers down the phone later when he's pulled himself together and his heart warms at the sound of Nino's hybrid yelp-sneeze laugh that's so near and yet so far away.

“I expect that back with interest. I'm investing in a rising star after all.”

Jun sniffles. “I'm two steps away right?”

He hears Nino's smile. “Definitely. Just two steps away from Sho-chan. So kill it, Jun.”

 

*

 

One year in Lyon suddenly leads to five years in Switzerland.

There, Jun meets Tegoshi Yuya.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jun comes face to face with the wall that is Tegoshi Yuya. And then important stuff happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The role of Olivier was a funny one. To be honest, I don't really know why I've dropped Tegoshi in this story. I point the finger to my sister who is a bigger Johnny's freak than me so I'm obliged to believe her opinions somewhat. Again, like many characters in this fic, I merely write my interpretation of how this character would fit in this universe so please don't throw me into a pit of fire just yet.
> 
> A bit of a long chapter here but like previously, here's some snippets of Jun..shi? Jun-ya? Tegojun? (what would you call them anyway?) friendship to give us a bit more background. The academy Jun attends here is inspired by the Culinary Arts Academy/Culinary Institute in Switzerland and its 22-week programme in Swiss Pastry and Chocolate Arts.

 

The French they speak in Switzerland is slightly different from what he had picked up from Lyon. As it is the German-speaking part of Switzerland, Jun finds himself dog-paddling his first week in Lucerne as he juggles between French and English in order to communicate. He's never felt so tired with forcing himself to talk so much after three years of reigning in his enthusiasm.

(“Isn't it tiring? It's not really becoming, you know. The whole 'cool silent asshole' thing.” Nino once tells him but Nino has no right to tell him what to do because he doesn't know how much his enthusiasm has gotten him and Sho to fall apart.)

On one particular night though, after his calls his family and Nino, Jun finds himself quietly thanking Sho for the times he had earnestly tutored him for some odd weeks in high school. Back then, he didn't think Sho's anal retentiveness towards proper diction in English – _shoulder pressed intimately against Jun's as they poured over Jun's messy note-taking and Sho's immaculate writing while feeding each other potato crisps_ – would actually save his hide in the future but it did. Because look at him now, sitting on his balcony with a Mild Seven and watching the impressive view of Lucerne at night. He's five steps so far ahead than what he'd ever dreamed of three years ago.

It's busy that night, with freshmen bustling about to get ready for one of the many welcome parties set up that week but Jun's retreated to his room because he needs some space and to recalibrate his battle plan of getting through this programme with flying colours. But after ten minutes of staring at his laptop, he gives up. It's too quiet in his room. He's not used to not hearing the cheery Mario Kart BGM playing in the background or the quiet humming of Nino as he shuffles through their flat and he doesn't think he can stand another minute of reading Sho's blog.

(It's still aches though, his chest, whenever he thinks of Sho. Of where he is and who he's quickly becoming in a span of just four years. He's gotten rid of his earring and stopped bleaching his hair now, opting for more natural colours like mahogany brown and Jun dizzily thinks, as he stops scrolling and trains his eyes on a candid photo of Sho – wonderful and dazzling and still so fucking perfect – eating grilled scallops by an amazing sea view in Chiba, _soon we'll be crossing paths soon_ ).

He sighs and puts out his cigarette with his portable ashtray. He's smoked only ten percent of it.

“Hi there.”

Jun startles at the disembodied greeting in English that rings so clear in the night and whips his head to the side. There's a young man standing in the balcony next to his – Asian, Jun notes in small relief – peering curiously at him. He's wearing an oversized hoodie of some local university and his short blond hair swept back from his face, bobby-pinned haphazardly. In the dark, Jun can see that he's watching him closely, a smile curling at his lips but it doesn't meet his eyes for some reason. It's a bit unnerving, the way he stands like that with his back straight and all confidence.

Jun gathers his wits and nods. “Hello,” he replies back in English.

“You're Japanese, right?”

It's a bit out of the blue but the man's asking this in Japanese so suddenly and Jun has never felt both relieved and dreadful in his life. He nods once more and the man instantly brightens. His mouth splits into a wide grin and the earlier standoffish aura falls off like a discarded cloak. Jun thinks that he looks rather lovely when he smiles like that, still so self-assured and comfortable in his own skin.

“Yuya. Tegoshi Yuya,” the man introduces himself and reaches over the railing to unexpectedly offer a hand. Jun stands up and takes it. He receives a good firm handshake. “So we're neighbours. I think I saw you the other day so that means we're in the same programme. You're that guy from Lyon right?”

“Yes, my name's Matsumoto Jun. Pleased to meet you,” Jun answers concisely and when Tegoshi regards him an amused look – one that oddly reminds him of Nino and his candidness – he adds in acknowledgement, “Tegoshi.”

Tegoshi looks unnaturally pleased at this and nods approvingly. “Just call me Yuya. And seriously, you don't need to be formal around me. I'm not Japanese.” When Jun quirks his brow at that, Tegoshi chuckles, his lips still curled in that half-smile of his. “Hey, aren't you cold? It's freezing balls out here. I'm craving for some Viennese. It'd be great if I can get some. The cafeteria's closed now but I'm pretty sure I can get us something. Come on over. It's my treat, yeah?” He says this all in one breath and finishes with a wink and a treacly little grin.

Jun, entranced and blinking dumbly, finds himself nodding.

 

*

 

Tegoshi reveals to him that he's Swiss when they're in the comfortable vicinity of his room and Jun almost spits out the gourmet coffee that Tegoshi had stolen from the student kitchens. (“Helped ourselves, Jun. It's not like anyone realises, you know,” Tegoshi had whispered then with a wicked glint in his eye as they slipped back upstairs).

He's pleased that he doesn't and takes a sip of his coffee to reward himself for it.

Well, it's not that Jun doesn't believe the guy but...no, he doesn't believe him. Jun knows better. He's picked up a decent amount of skills from Nino to know that Tegoshi's clearly just bullshitting him here because he's the newbie. There's nothing remotely western about his face and his Japanese is impeccable after all.

“You think I'm bullshitting,” It's not a question but more of an observance and Tegoshi's grinning at him over his steaming mug, looking far too relaxed on his bed for someone who has a stranger in his room and had stolen some expensive coffee for him.

“Clearly I'm not the first,” Jun points out matter-of-factly.

Tegoshi's nose scrunches a little and he gives a small shrug. “I am though by _jus sanguinis._ Mum's Swiss, though she became fluent in Japanese after she married my dad. So naturally, I also became fluent. You may know her. She's judged you for your showpiece in Lyon.”

Jun lowers his mug and gives Tegoshi a wide-eyed look. “Hang on. Are you saying you're the son of Anais Egli? Anais Egli, the founder of Valerie?” He remembers Anais – a lovely woman with a friendly demeanour, a sweet smile and incredible fluency in Japanese who whole-heartedly praised Jun for making it far – and he's tracing Tegoshi's face sceptically to find the similarity between the two.

Tegoshi gives him a hundred-watt smile – and that's it, that's Anais right there – and it takes Jun a lot of effort to not slump in his seat as he thinks, fuck. Fuck, this is this person who's going to be in my way. Another person born with a silver spoon and yet an impressive head start.

“Does it bother you?” Tegoshi, the despicable bastard looking smug as you please, asks innocently.

Jun lifts his mug and forces his own one hundred-watt smile. “Should I be?”

“You've got to be.”

 

*

 

If Jun has four words to describe Tegoshi Yuya it would be that he's nothing but a conniving piece of shit.

After that odd late night coffee chat, Jun finds out the next time they have class that yes Tegoshi is indeed taking the same programme as he is and yes, Jun's actually pretty bothered about finding out that he has competition so soon when he's barely gotten the hang of things in the academy. It makes him feel like he's paddling a canoe down a river with only one oar. It's unnerving to see Tegoshi speak Swiss German so fluidly that Jun has to force himself to focus on the basics of Swiss pastry that their instructor's barking at them, dutifully jotting down notes. Tegoshi, Jun cannot help but notice, does none of this. Which is hardly surprising given that he probably knows pastry making from the back of his hand and is probably just making a show of high-handedness to Jun.

Like he's pulling some sort of Sun Tzu stunt on him.

Jun flips a page of his notepad, irrationally irked.

Because his mind is a stupid dangerous place, it recalls what Tegoshi had said to him then – _You've got to be –_ and the way he'd sat there, upright and oozing confidence with his lips quirked and barely skimming across the rim of his mug. It's like the man's already made a declaration of war without the decency of setting down the mutual terms to Jun. It's like Tegoshi's already started the fight on an uneven playing field and knows that it's going to be an easy win for him.

 _Absolute bullshit_ , the little voice at the back of his head which sounds funnily like Nino says as Jun watches Tegoshi closely. Watches the way he speaks, the calculative look in his eyes, the way he appears to shamelessly flirt with anyone just because he sees that he can. _He's nothing you ought to be worried about_.

 

*

 

“Tell me what you know about Tegoshi Yuya.”

He can almost hear Nino's eyes roll. “Aside from the fact that he's Anais Egli's son _and_ her protege with an impressive repertoire of sweets-making under his belt?” comes the familiar lazy drawl. Nino's voice, though still penetrating on the phone, is a comfortable reminder of home. Faintly, Jun can hear Mario Kart playing and would've smile if it weren't for the pressing matter at hand. “What, are you getting cold feet?” asks Nino distractedly. Mario cheers.

Jun falters for a second. Because now he wonders if it's all just an over-exaggeration, if it's just his head playing tricks on him to freak him out over the wall of confidence that is also known as Tegoshi. He wonders if going to Switzerland had been a mistake in the first place because it's not like he's achieving anything spectacular as of yet. He's not like Sho with his constant travelling and frequent blog entries of amazing food of the high calibre or Nino with his shady self-employment activities (as the fact that he can actually afford to buy a car in Tokyo is seriously something). Jun is still nothing but a lucky rookie who's only got a handful of national competition wins and testimonials from his schools.  He's nothing like Tegoshi who easily walks the walk and talks the talk.

He hears Nino straighten up in his chair. “Jun,” comes the admonishing tone because Nino is always like that. He just somehow knows which direction Jun's mind is going.

“He's just in the way,” Jun opts to tell him plainly and nothing more. Faintly, he hears Mario get hit by a Koopa shell and slip across a banana peel.

Nino curses. “Yeah so what do you do with walls that are obscuring your view?”

Jun huffs.  _You move away, that's what_ , he thinks grimly.

 

*

 

It's intriguing to watch actually, how Tegoshi leaves his playfulness at the door the moment he enters the kitchens. After the instructor hands them their task, he simply keeps quiet and goes straight to work with a great degree of concentration until he's lost in his own world – something which Jun appreciates and sees in himself as well. But that doesn't mean Jun feels any better whenever he sees Tegoshi pull off exquisite desserts during their practicals. It distracts him, steers him off track to see him the other man move with a fluidity that can only come with self-assurance in your own abilities that it sometimes affects his performance.

“Overbeaten eggs,” their instructor, a thorough and wickedly observant man, barks. He sends a pointed look down the length of his large beak-like nose and sniffs, “A simple mistake even for you. Start again, Jun.”

Jun flushes under the look and is about to bow apologetically when he catches himself. “Y-Yes, chef,” he stutters.

He ducks his head and dutifully throws away his eggs mixture. He's cracking a new batch into his bowl when he feels the weight of Tegoshi's eyes on him from two stations away. Fighting the urge to glance up (and the betraying warmth that's erupting across his cheeks), he quickly snatches up the whisk and gets a move on with his task.

He's in the middle of sifting some flour when Tegoshi sweeps past and discreetly places a small tub of gelatine on Jun's workspace. Jun stops sifting and he eyes the tub warily. Carefully, he weighs his options. Because if he takes the tub, it would save him a lot of the time that he's lost but that would also mean he'd end up being indebted to Tegoshi. He'd lose out and Jun hates losing, not when it's too early in the game and he hasn't even caught up to Sho just yet.

So Jun leaves it, squaring his shoulders out of stubbornness and pride.

At the end of class, he receives an average for his dish for the first time in his life (what the fuck) while Tegoshi becomes top of the class (what _the fuck_ ).

 

*

 

Tegoshi plants himself in the seat next to Jun's work station. The young woman who sits next to Jun and who Jun has grown to like – Magda from Poland – is absent today, probably nursing a hangover from a wild night out so Tegoshi, in all his smug delight, takes this opportunity to terrorise a half-awake Jun with his flamboyant getup of leopard prints and pink.

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

Jun wishes he had taken an extra shot of espresso that morning because surely that amount of pink on a man is _not_ normal. He holds back a sigh and manages to grunt out a cranky, “Morning, Tegoshi.”

“Yuya, Jun.”

“Tegoshi.”

“Such a prude.”

The instructor's barely finished with his assignation of tasks when Tegoshi rounds onto him and declares “Partners” in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Jun glares at him and watches helplessly as Tegoshi saunters off to pick up their ingredients from the pantry. They're making sweet breads this week and while Jun isn't that bad at working with dough, he's not looking forward to working with Tegoshi and his offensive brilliance.

He dutifully pulls out the mixing bowls, measuring cups and baking tins just as Tegoshi slinks back with a basket of ingredients. He sees that half of them aren't even included in the instructions. “Are you taking the piss? You're going to get us in trouble,” Jun grits out unhappily.

Tegoshi, with an air of nonchalance, offers him a little grin. “And where's your sense of adventure? Didn't think the guy from Lyon is actually such a stick in the mud.”

“There's this thing called self-discipline which you should look up,” remarks Jun huffily. “Stop tampering with that truffle, damn it.”

Tegoshi bumps his hip against Jun's. “Prude. It's a wonder you even got this far.”

At the end of class, the two of them end up making two different birnbots. Jun receives a good score while Tegoshi is once again top of the class with his clever truffle infusion.

Son of a bitch.

 

*

 

“Seriously, are you really that guy my mum judged?”

It's asked innocently enough over steaming mugs of coffee (bought this time, not stolen) but Jun's quick enough to pick up the incriminating tone in his words. He leans back into his seat. It's a rainy afternoon and they're seated by the window in the campus's coffee shop. Jun observes the way Tegoshi's looking curiously back at him, like he's trying to debunk something that's been bothering the back of his mind.

“Should you be worried?” Jun sneers.

“At this rate, I don't believe so.”

(Don't believe so. Jun latches on to that and it's not that difficult to read the message Tegoshi's clearly put there. Over the week, he's become confident to the point of obnoxious and while Jun would usually wave off some chump's cockiness (Jun still has a thousand and one tricks up his sleeve and isn't likely to be giving up any time soon), Tegoshi throws him off entirely with his patronising, lack of propriety and bluntness. Morbidly, Jun thinks it's like he's staring right into the face of Sho and Nino's lovechild and that's unbelievably fucked up because why is it that these things happen when he's standing at a crossroad?).

Seething, Jun curls his fist into a ball under the table. He forces himself to remain seated and civil but makes no move to reach over to pick up a drink. Tegoshi, on the other hand, does and he raises his mug of Viennese in a mock gesture of goodwill.

 

*

 

 _L'effort est ma force,_ is what Jun reads on Sho's latest blog entry.

“ _A rule of the Sakurai household is that your actions are your own responsibility. I made a conscious decision to pursue this career path at an unexpected moment in my life because of this person. Quite naturally, my parents were surprised, sceptical. And quite rightly so because I may be born a wordsmith and blessed with a good palate as a gourmand but I am no chef. So it took lots and lots and lots of effort and hard work. It's paid off. I'm now reaching that certain point soon so that's phenomenal progress on my part, even if it doesn't seem so to other people. Because in actuality, talent (inspiration) and hard work (perspiration) go hand in hand. So to all my readers and to that person specifically, where has your effort and strength taken you?_

Jun stares, his body slack in his seat as his heart stops, jumpstarts and then bangs hard against his chest. He reads it, over and over and over and over again. The cigarette between his fingers quickly diminishes until he finally, shakily, takes a quick drag.

'To that person specifically'.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes out in a puff of smoke that doesn't lessen the sickening accumulation of soaring wild hope and lead-heavy dread in the pit of his very being. He falls back against his seat, blinking slowly. “Holy _fuck._ ”

Nino was right.

Sho is aware.

(“Well duh, who do you take me for?” Nino would say laughingly if he were here and he'd kick Jun in the shin just to prove his point.)

And just like that, Jun's vision suddenly sharpens in the midst of the tobacco smoke that's floating around him. Just like that, he realises that everything is not as bleak and pointless as he's fooled himself into thinking lately. Just like that, he remembers that in spite of what he and people may think, his effort and strength alone has taken him _places_ but he still has yet to show it to that one person who he's been hell bent on chasing after all these years.

Sakurai Sho, upon climbing up and going places, has actually _paused_ and it's like he's waiting for _him_ . Like he's sitting by the sea in Chiba and taking his time to goad Jun to catch up. He'd say to him with that wicked little smile (the one that wrinkles his nose wonderfully), _Were you able to prove yourself, Macchan?_

Jun squashes out his cigarette and stands up. Recalibrates himself and does Nino a favour by kicking himself for being distracted and stalling. There's still two steps between them and he's not going to waste it by faffing about.

 

*

 

They're assigned to create a simple but easily disastrous dessert: Soufflé. Tegoshi creates a coffee and praline souffle. It's a hit with its mousse-like texture when he serves it cold.

Jun, on the other hand, makes use of the season and makes a pumpkin souffle. He adds shallots, fresh herbs, crushed amaretti cookies, parmesan and some bourbon for a flavourful kick. His instructor is blown away and happily announces to the class that Jun's dish will be featured in the academy's restaurant for a week.  Magda from Poland smiles coquettishly at him - leans close until the dip of her top almost reveals the swell of her breasts and her lips almost touch the shell of his ear as she tells him that he ought to teach her how to make that in her kitchen sometime - and Jun preens.  He turns his head and meets Tegoshi's gaze.  There's a steely look there and a half-smile on his lips.

Jun tilts his head accordingly, to which Tegoshi quirks his brows at.

Challenge accepted.

 

*

 

Naturally, the game is on.

They compete to one-up each other in their practicals that most of their classmates take care to not get in their way. Even Magda has steered clear, much to Jun's dismay as she is easy on the eyes and has a wonderful bottom that he doesn't think he can ever get enough of, and relinquished her workstation to Tegoshi.  (She tells him that it isn't personal but admits that sometimes the tension between him and Tegoshi is a little too much that she's starting to think she's getting in the way.  Jun is horrified by the thought and she laughs at this, gives him a kiss as she wishes him all the best regardless).

When it comes to a lesson in sugar art and pastillage sculpturing, Jun finds himself floundering slightly. In the span of ten minutes, he's already broken three sheets of sugar glass and his sculpture isn't holding up as well as it should.

At the end of practicals, Tegoshi comes out on top.

“Next time,” Jun says when Tegoshi saunters by to head back to his workstation.

Tegoshi throws a saucy smile over his shoulder. “Next time.”

 

*

 

“Suck it up and let's be friends.”

It's been six weeks since their late night coffee and now they're standing in one of the book isles of the library where Tegoshi's cornered him. Jun's not looking at him. He won't give the other man the satisfaction of giving him his attention so he pretends to be immersed in a book that he randomly picks up – something about silver service dining – and he's secretly pleased when he reads the impatience rolling off Tegoshi's body language.

“If you think you're doing better, think again. You're still not performing as well as you aimed for.” Expect no less that Tegoshi can be a downright prick.

“Fuck off.”

“You're hot when I get you all riled up, Jun.”

“And you're annoying when you try to.”

Tegoshi smirks at his cattish comeback and leans into Jun's space, slipping the book out of his fingers and placing it on the shelf behind Jun. He only stops when their noses almost touch and at a point where they're almost sharing a breath. It's too close for comfort but Jun can see that Tegoshi's purposely leaving some room for him to draw away. To turn tail and run.

“Who's holding you back?” Tegoshi is going and he's sticking his foot in right where he knows it hurts, testing the dangerous waters he knows he's wading through. “Is it the one that's driving you forward?”

Jun's upper lip curls. “Or maybe it's just the piece of trash that I need to scrape off my shoe,” he simpers.

Tegoshi doesn't blink at that nor does he look offended. He merely smiles dangerously and Jun bites the inside of his cheek because it's taking a lot of energy to not wipe that smug look of Tegoshi's face permanently.

There's a pregnant pause between them and it's tense, stifling to the point of being uncomfortable as Tegoshi looks hard at him, that Jun almost backs out. He doesn't though and he's glad for that because in the next moment Tegoshi beams. It's an open, honest look that Jun realises is just like that night when they first met on the balcony and how everything just slips off the man like an unwanted cloak. He wonders if this is the real face of the man under all that glaring self-confidence.

“Alright, alright. Look, honestly, I really do like you. So I'm asking you sincerely to be friends,” Tegoshi starts. He hasn't backed away and neither has Jun. He's not as tense as he was minutes ago and he wonders if that was because Tegoshi has finally dropped his douche act. “Seriously, it's fine to push forward with raw talent and effort but if there's one thing you need still to learn in order to go places, it's networking.”

Jun narrows his eyes warily. “And you're just doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

Tegoshi sighs and he gives Jun a look which is a cross between exasperation and fondness. “Well duh, dummy. That's what friends do. We help each other out.”

 

*

 

It turns out that Tegoshi has vast connections, not just in Switzerland but across Europe as well.

When there's a launch for a new high-end chocolate boutique at a ritzy hotel downtown, Tegoshi all but drags him to the event as his plus one and enthusiastically introduces him to far too many VIPs than what Jun is comfortable with. He then gets to meet Anais briefly, who appears both surprised and pleased to see that her son is friends with him.

“Yuya can be a handful and a bit pushover but he does mean well,” she tells him with a warm kind look in her eyes. “Thank you for taking care of him. If you ever need anything, do get in touch, you know. It's often better to lean on others sometimes. Strength and tenacity is one thing but it's support which really gets you by.”

“Is that how you got through?” Jun asks and he's trying so hard to not see how similar Anais and Tegoshi are to each other as she sips her champagne daintily and watches him with crinkled amused eyes.  Somewhere to Jun's left, he hears Tegoshi laugh loudly, the sound high and pleasant in the amiable chatter of the guests.

“It's how everyone gets through everything, Jun.  It can lead you to places. And people too."

Jun leaves the party late and for the first time he's not bringing home a girl with a head buzzing with alcohol but a pocketful of business cards as well as an invitation to participate in a prestigious chocolate showcase.

 

*

 

It's only when Jun loses it under pressure that Tegoshi learns about Sho.

Stretched out and taut with stress, Jun caves in to the overwhelming feeling that's been consuming him and he knocks his chocolate showpiece off in a burst of anger. It breaks in half. In an outburst, he tells Tegoshi how much he hates everything. He hates being far away from home, hates working his ass off on things that can easily melt and eaten in three seconds, hates how he's blindly chasing after one guy who seems to move even further away from his reach whenever he thinks he's finally closing in. Ultimately, he tells Tegoshi the reasons why he hates Sho. He hates him for coming uninvited into his life. For leaving him crashed, burnt and empty. For bringing out the best and worst out of him. For being the reason of why he's become the fucked up monster that he is today.

“He's the best thing that's happened to you, though.”

Jun's shoulders sag and he stares at Tegoshi in disbelief, sees the way he's watching him back so closely with an odd look on his face. For a moment, it almost feels like it's Nino looking at him.  Again.  Fucking hell.

“You're seriously telling me that a heartbreak is the best to happen to me?” Jun wheezes and he's close, so dangerously close to punching Tegoshi in the face for his habit of saying the first thing that comes across his mind without tact.

“Well, yeah. It's like you said. This Sho. He brings out the best and worst out of you. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here in fucking Switzerland and about to enter a competition which can make it big for you. You'd have never met me or that Nino guy, you know."  Jun quietens at that just as Tegoshi reaches over and picks up the broken pieces of chocolate.  He deposits them in a empty baking tray. “It's a bullshit and horrendously dramatic way, believe me, but it's by far the best.”

“The best way to utilise heartbreaks,” murmurs Jun after a while - he thinks, Nino said something like that once too didn't he? Something about revenge being the best way of healing -  and stops Tegoshi from picking up the broken pieces because it's his mess and his problems that only he ought to sort out. Not anyone else. Tegoshi doesn't deserve to be dragged and tangled up in his cock ups. "Yeah, it's fucked up."

Tegoshi meets his gaze, looks him straight in the eye for a long moment and then he flashes him a small smile. As if he understands and accepts somehow that this is the only way Jun can move on and find closure from this emotional fuckwit of a mess. That it's only through proving himself and proving Sho otherwise that he'd be able to move on to better, greater things. It's a stupid fucking thing, all this is. It's stupid being in love and (never) falling out of it. But that's what it is. Sakurai Sho isn't a person that Jun can just easily forget after all, no matter how much he ought to.

“We'll get him,” Tegoshi says consolingly. “I'm always with you.”

Jun smiles mirthlessly as he recalls that those were the very same words he had offered Sho in the home economics room years ago. How it had been the closest thing to a confession he'd ever said then. “You're not obligated,” he says pointedly.

“Oh for god's sake, Jun.” Tegoshi rolls his eyes and again, like before, he gives Jun this exasperated fond look that only he can seem to wear. “I swear sometimes you are just impossible. Of course, I'm going to stick around and look out for you, idiot. We're friends. If you stumble, I'll be there to pick up and patch your wounds in a heartbeat. Don't you doubt that.”

Jun looks down at his hands, suddenly feeling abashed and inadequate because he's unable to conjure up a reply to that. Words are lost on him because sometimes the things Tegoshi says are just too direct. So he keeps quiet, keeps his hands to himself and looks at the broken pieces of chocolate and the coconut-lemongrass bonbons he'd been planning to decorate with. He sincerely wishes that Tegoshi can somehow pick up his feelings of just how grateful Jun feels towards him right now.

“Just so we're clear though. You're not planning on killing him are you?”

And not mistaken his hard stare as a murderous one with evil intentions.

Jun chuckles weakly at that as he appraises how the pale yellow sugar crystals glimmer like dying stars on top of the glaze of dark chocolate. “Not him,” he answers lightly, sighing. He straightens up and shuffles his way over to the fridge in order to start on a new batch of chocolate shapes. “Just his career.”

 

*

 

It's unbelievable really, how things are quickly falling into place like a set of reclining dominoes.

One moment he's waddling his way through and mindlessly competing with Tegoshi and the next he's meeting all sorts of important people and starting to get somewhere _finally_.  There's only four weeks left until he's done with his programme and aside from his impressive and steadily accumulating repertoire of competitions and showcases, he's just received news that he's been listed as one of the world's young bright stars in the chocolate industry. He'd been featured in magazines and all. The academy tells him that top hotels and haute chocolaterie boutiques across Europe are _begging_ for him to join their ranks after graduation. It flatters him speechless.  Tegoshi, upon finding speechless Jun highly amusing, smacks his back so hard that it triggers an equally hard smack to the back of the man's head from Jun.

Some time during the evening, Nino calls him - an unbelievable miracle - and reports to him on how Japan was also beginning to kick up a fuss on his work overseas and that “they're fucking watching you like hungry vultures over here so hurry up and come back, 'Prince of Sweets', because I'm sick of acting as your unpaid PR”. He hears the unbridled pride in Nino's voice and a burst of laughter bubbles out of Jun, to which Nino after a stunned silence joins. They're laughing so hard to the point where Jun feels his cheeks will tear and he can't breathe but he thinks this feels too fucking awesome right now and he doesn't care if Tegoshi's staring at him like he's grown a second head because he knows it's the first time he's felt so happy in years.

When Tegoshi slinks past him, Jun grabs his wrist. Squeezes it. Tegoshi looks surprised for a second but then smiles in understanding.

“We're getting there, Jun," he tells Jun later when he surprises him with a bottle of Merlot. "We'll show him what he's missing out on.”

Giving a small affectionate smack to Tegoshi's head as he takes the gift, Jun doesn't believe he can ever express his gratitude to Tegoshi out loud.

 

*

 

He does though.

It's a week later and they're in Paris, currently celebrating Jun's miraculous win at a Chocolate Grand Prix by getting absolutely shitfaced in their hotel room. Jun's hiccuping and embarrassing himself in a puddle of tears as he thanks him and Tegoshi's by his side, red-faced and laughing and telling him that it's nothing but destiny.

“Sho-san,” Tegoshi starts with a slur as he glugs at the fancy Chardonnay they've had brought up to their room. He's squinting blearily at the impressive view of the Eiffel Tower from their window and Jun reaches over, flattening that one flick of hair that's been sticking out of place all night. “I get that he's probably a right dickwad and stuff but man, he's definitely _something_ since he's your muse. To think that all of this–” He gestures around him. “-is all because of him.”

Jun hums. Oddly, he feels very put together after he's cried his eyes out. “Jealous?”

“Are you kidding? Any man would be fucking lucky to be in his shoes.”

“I wouldn't bet on it.”

Tegoshi swirls his drink. “Because it's complicated and you still need closure and all that melodramtic soap opera shit,” he says. “So, like, basically the plan is this. We're just going to head back to Japan, open up a shop and then you turn up at Sho's doorstep with a box of kickass palets fins to shove up his ass. And, what, that's it?”

Jun pretends to think and nods. “That's it.”

Tegoshi's mouth drops open. “Are you shitting me? You're seriously not going to win him over?”

Jun peers at him and sees that Tegoshi is looking back at his with surprisingly clarity in his eyes. There's an intense look there and it almost makes his heart stop. “What makes you think I'm doing this out of love?” he manages to say evenly with a narrowing – pathetic squinting, really – of his eyes.

“There's a thin line between love and hate, you know,” the other man tells him seriously and in that moment it almost sounds like it's Nino again who's sitting here and reminding him of the ugly truth he's long avoided prodding with a stick because if he did, it would implode into a whole set of problems that Jun just doesn't want to deal with. He's not ready for that and he clearly doesn't want to think about the what ifs and maybes that he's long shoved down. He's not stupid to go looking for another heartbreak.

Antsy, Jun gracelessly reaches over to pick up the bottle of Chardonnay but Tegoshi stops him and pushes it further away. “Go for it,” he continues. “It won't be easy, mind you. But if he's a being whiny bitch, I'll punch him in the nose and make him step on a lego for you.”

Jun stares at him blankly.

“Legos fucking hurt," Tegoshi supplies helpfully. "Quick, hurts like a bitch and it'll smart for a long time. Much like a heartbreak, actually. So I reckon that's justifiable.”

“A bit much, don't you think?”

“Anything for you, partner. Say we both turn up on his doorstep? You with your chocolates and me with my legos. We'd be invincible tag team and he can't say no.” The serious look in Tegoshi's red face is so out of place and amusing that Jun ends up laughing. It's a loud, ugly braying sound which he still hates and he slaps a hand over his mouth to keep it in but Tegoshi perks up. He's grinning happily, eyes crinkling with delight.

“Yeah? We can do that, yeah? Sho-san would be an idiot if he ever thinks less of you when we head back.”

Snorting, Jun's still grinning behind his hand and his heart leaps at the thought of going back, too lightheaded to notice the 'we' Tegoshi's been saying all night. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, we can do that.”

 

*

 

At the end of their programme, Jun and Tegoshi are collectively posted to do their paid internship in Geneva and then Brussels for the next six months. It's also then that Jun finds out that Sho has accepted a job at a well-respected food magazine in Tokyo. He's finally decided to settle after years of building up rapport and his repertoire as a freelance food writer.

Soon, Jun thinks as he reads Sho's latest entry of critiquing a dessert from a boutique hotel in Roppongi. There are a number of pictures but he's tracing the one where Sho sits by the window and ingrains it into his mind. He takes in the little details of how Sho's tongue darts out a little to lick at the silver fork, how the sun rays streaming in reflect off the tip of his nose and how his navy jumper brings out the warm amber from his eyes.

Tegoshi peers over his shoulder and lets out a low whistle. (“Damn he's hot. Hey, if it all goes to hell and doesn't work out, I'll help myself, okay?”). Jun's stomach lurches at the sight – damn it, Sho shouldn't stick his tongue out like that surely there are politer ways of eating mousse – and he roughly shoves Tegoshi's face away.

Soon, he thinks. There's only one and a half steps between them.

 

*

 

“So? Where to now?”

They've just gotten off the plane and it's eleven at night. Tegoshi, after bitching so much on their fifteen hour flight, has finally quietened down and he seems fascinated with how busy Narita airport still is. They're collecting their bags from the baggage claim, muscles still stiff from the long haul trip, when Jun's phone pings shortly after he's turned it on. He finds that it's an email waiting for him and it's from Nino.

There's no apology and no explanation.

Just an address of a street in Shinjuku.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been six fucking years, Nino is still a darling piece of shit, Tegoshi's not amused and there's only half a step left. Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am so sorry it took me longer to update this time round. It's the semester break (finally!) and would you believe me if I told you lot that I got sick just from drinking a glass of obscenely sweet iced tea? Shakes fist at CBTL. No matter, I'm back now with a clearer mind so I'll try to get these chapters out as quickly as possible.
> 
> So in this chapter, we're finally picking up some speed to get this story moving along. Six years have passed and Jun is about to lay down the foundations to embark on his journey of love, setting his traps because that's totally what normal people do. Also, finally Tegoshi and Nino meet. Initially this chapter was a monster and it took me a loooong time to rewrite and edit on my own. I have a nasty habit of planning shit and then in the end it goes off into a different direction, for better or worse. Sigh.
> 
> As always, thanks for your wonderful comments and kudos! x

 

He finds himself standing in front of an empty store in a corner of Shinjuku.

It's quiet at this side of the road, with a lone rusty bicycle and a few potted but dead plants seated on the front steps. As he comes to a stop, a faraway memory surfaces in his mind for a split second then and in it he thinks he hears the delicate tinkling of chinaware and the sound of a broken record going round and round.

“Total asswipe.”

Jun casts a side glance to Tegoshi, who lets out an unimpressed sigh which disperses into the biting cold night. Meeting his questioning look, Tegoshi simply shrugs. “That's exactly what you're thinking of saying. Since this Nino of yours is a downright bitch.”

Jun snorts. “In one way or another," he agrees because his patience is quickly wearing thin and he honestly hates waiting around aimlessly. He's just about to reach for his phone to give Nino an earful when he hears,

“Now that's just fucking rude _,_ J.”

And then there's Nino materialising from the shadowy corner of the street, looking smug as you please with that stupid guiltless smirk on his face. His hair is unkempt, sticking up in odd angles like he's just woken up and there's traces of a day old eyeliner around his eyes.  His fashion, as always, is impeccably garish.  Jun scowls at him and tells him crossly, “I swear if you just came back from a club, I will kill you.”

“I did arrive though,” comes Nino's smooth retort as he keeps walking towards Jun with his languid slink and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He stops short in front of Jun and has to lift his chin a little to meet his gaze. It's dark but Jun can see how behind the fading kohl there is a warm look that's so full of familiarity and it causes his chest constrict a little at the sight. “You're still alive,” he hears says Nino softly.

Jun nods stiffly at this and his arms hang uselessly by his sides.  He's suddenly at a loss of what to do and it feels surreal. Is this how it feels like to meet someone after a really long time? The sudden itch to do and say everything and nothing at the same time? Is this the feeling he'll experience when he'll finally meet Sho? Holding back a shudder, he only manages to finally say, “And you're still a colossal dickhead”, when Nino suddenly reaches over and yanks him by the arm to drag him into an embrace.

Jun stiffens and his heart jumps to his throat.

 _You're still alive,_ is what Jun thinks he hears Nino repeat into his shoulder and the way he heard it – relieved and so full of praise – causes Jun's reservedness to crumble a little and he decides to relent, placing a tentative hand on Nino's narrow waist. It's only then that the realisation finally sinks. To think that it's been six fucking years since he's last seen this piece of shit, of just hearing his voice on the phone and seeing his blurry face on scarce video calls (because Nino is a selfish bitch who gripes about how it takes up too much data on his internet broadband). His years overseas had been undoubtedly conducive but upon standing here in the shadowy corner of Shinjuku with Nino's stubby fingers pressing into his shoulder blades, Jun can't help but release a sigh and think with confidence that _yes, now there's really only a step between us_.

Jun hears a smile from his friend – knows that Nino's well aware of his train of thought if that hearty pat to this back means anything – and he almost sags on the spot because he's so glad that it feels like home to have his partner by his side again.

“Steady on there.”

They hear Tegoshi say this laughingly in a voice that's high and shrilly in the night and it's a unpleasant reminder which feels like a bucket of ice being tipped down the length of his back. In a flurry of movement, Jun more or less shoves Nino off him. It's a bit much but Jun's still not that great at being overtly kind to others but he's glad to see Nino takes no offence. He looks pleased if anything, like he's glad that the Jun standing in front of him – taller, confident and more put together – is still the same awkward Jun he'd met near the strip mall nine years ago.

“Three seconds. Explain yourself,” demands Jun roughly, carting a hand through his hair. He's thankful that they're standing in the dark because he knows Nino (and, traitorously, Tegoshi too, sod the lot of them) would have a field day if he notices how red in the face he is.

“It's yours,” Nino says plainly and rather unhelpfully, referring to nothing in particular. He's standing there with his hands back in his pockets and looking relaxed but his bright eyes are lingering on Jun's companion now, shining with curiosity. “Just sign some papers and then we're good to go.” He jerks his head. “And this is?”

Tegoshi sticks a hand out and tells him around a charming smile, “Tegoshi Yuya”, at the same time Jun repeats, “Papers?”

Nino, out of habit, decides to ignore Jun's need for clarification. Instead, he blinks at the outstretched hand that's directed to him however and after a while and to Jun's surprise, he actually takes it. He shakes it heartily, flashing Tegoshi a rare gummy smile as he tells him, “Welcome home.”

Tegoshi grins. “Oh, I'm not Japanese.”

Nino arches a brow though he still holds his smile. “You have two fucking nationalities, Teppyon. So until you actually decide, you're still Japanese. And you,” He sends an atrocious wink to Jun's direction. “Be a darling and flag down a taxi because I don't know about you lot but I want to go home. You've already wasted thirteen minutes of my life, four percent of my electricity bill and I've still got Mario Kart on pause on the Wii. So chop, chop.” He turns on his heel to head back out to the main street but not before he pats Tegoshi's - who looks hilariously astonished - cheek sweetly.  “Hope you're not a sore loser like Jun, Teppyon.”

 

*

 

Nino leads them to two apartments at the end of the wing that are adjacent to each other.

In a questionable gentlemanly act, he unlocks one of the apartments – the door plate which reads 'Matsumoto' Jun realises with a raised brow – and he steps in, sweeping an arm out in an arc motion. “Welcome home, Your Highness,” Nino says in a theatrical voice before he slips off his shoes to disappear into the apartment.

Warily, Jun and Tegoshi peer in.

It's not dark and barren as Jun had been expecting. In fact, it's warm, well-lit and furnished, stocked with Jun's belongings which he had shipped over months ago. That said, it's also frightfully messy. There are shoes cluttered haphazardly in the entryway, as well as some plastic bags containing what looks to be a six-pack of beer and snacks unceremoniously dumped on the coffee table. There's an odd mixture of scents in the air, like Nino's been lighting a number of his scented candles all at the same time before he left and somewhere deeper in the flat, Jun can hear the faint merry jingle of Mario Kart.

Tegoshi slips past him with their luggage, letting out an impressed whistle when he sees the view of the living room window while Jun remains by the door.  He feels a little lightheaded, like he's almost floating in a dream-like state, as he surmises the sight before him and pieces together the cryptic messages Nino had been sending him over the last month. How he'd told Jun to stop being such a scheduling freak and just focus on doing his thing. How he'd told Jun to stop worrying about stupid minor details like housing and what not. He had been given Jun impression that he was charitable enough to let them stay at his place until he and Tegoshi were able to settle down and start afresh.

But this. This is a whole other thing. This thing about how Nino's actually kept another place that's just across from his so that Jun would settle in just nicely after he uproots himself from Switzerland and fuck that is fucking lovely of him.  Jun scratches the nape of his neck and exhales slowly. Because sometimes he really does believe he's blessed to have befriended the strange creature that is Nino but of course he'll never ever tell that to his face.

Jun holds back a sigh but then breathes out in an accusatory tone when he spots the balled up socks under the table and on one of the chic dining chairs, “Are you fucking living here?” It comes out a little acidic than he intends but he slips his boots off and treads in to the living room, scrunching his nose distastefully at the clutter around him.

“No but I pig out here when I want to spite you,” Nino says easily over his shoulder as he randomly gestures to the side and Tegoshi dumps their luggage in the corner. A loud beeping sound goes off somewhere deeper in the flat and Nino starts towards it. “Now sit your asses down and zip it. I've got your coffee coming.”

“Well, aren't you hospitable."

“I'm aiming for best fucking friend of the year.”

Tegoshi makes an unconvinced noise at Nino's back but he settles down on one of the armchairs. Jun, on the other hand, stays put. He feels a little lost if anything and that standing in the middle of the room has him feeling tall and alien. Tegoshi picks up on his discomfort like a bloodhound on a trail and he quickly offers Jun a kind smile.

“You okay?”

There's a speck of concern in his eyes and Jun finally sighs, shifting his weight to one leg as he crosses his arms.

“Didn't expect him to pull this shit, did you?”

“Not really, no,” Jun admits quietly and he observes the rest of the living room. He sees that the plastic bag is full that swanky beer Nino seems to favour and some convenience store croquettes. It's not from the shop he likes but Jun is pleasantly surprised to see that he remembers and he has to fight down a smile at that.

“Looks like we're going to have to duke it out,” says Tegoshi after a while.

Jun arches a brow and his mind turns a little at that sentence, flips over the words and tries to figure out just what on earth does he mean by that in this context so suddenly? “What do you mean–” he starts but is interrupted by the sound of Nino skulking back into the room with two steaming mugs of what smells like instant coffee. The very ones which you can easily get from the vending machines at the corner of the street.

“Fucking cheapskate,” Jun points out with a scrunch of his nose.

“Like I'm going to spend money on your coffee? Please.”

Placing the two mugs on the table, Nino plops himself down on the lush sofa and he quickly retrieves his Wii controller, already resuming his paused game. Tegoshi eyes the coffees distastefully and it's pretty obvious that he's not willing to even try it. Out of ingrained politeness, Jun picks up a cup of shit coffee and takes a sip of it. He finds to his delight that it's given a splash of liquour to make up for its horrible artificial sweetness and instantly he feels awake and warm in the belly. He takes another appreciative sip before he sits on Nino's feet.

“Fucking hell...really? You're way too heavy now.”

Jun shrugs and makes his point by taking a noisy sip.

Nino makes an unhappy sound at this but he doesn't move to kick at Jun whatsoever. Tegoshi is quiet all throughout this exchange but he's watching Jun and Nino with that secret little half-smile of his, his brows closely knitted like he's in the middle trying to figure something out. Nino, naturally, notices this.

“It's fine if you're too pussy to try,” he goads after he unleashes a banana peel and they all watch Yoshi spiral out of control and crash into a bend of the racetrack. It's a brilliant way to break the ice and unsurprisingly, Tegoshi rises up to the challenge.

“I can wipe the floor clean with you, don't you worry about that,” Tegoshi says, picking up the spare Wii controller.

Nino releases a sharp bark of laughter and his kohl-smudged eyes are shining bright with delight. “Well aren't you a cocky son of a bitch. No wonder Jun lost his footing for a bit.”

“I will pour my coffee on you, you know.”

Tegoshi's eyes glint mischievously at this and he's throwing Nino a treacly little grin – the one which Jun knows he does in order to get what he wants - and challenges, “Hey, how about we wager on it? Loser gets doused by Jun's coffee.”

Nino's face splits into a shark-like grin and he spins his controller. “Teppyon, my dear friend, you are going to regret this.”

 

*

 

“Thanks.”

Nino feigns an innocent look at him. The television and the Wii has long been turned off and it's almost sunrise. Tegoshi is sprawled across the armchair, snoring in deep sleep. His shirt, stained with coffee, is bunched up on the floor by his feet. In the soft rays that are beginning to creep in through the windows, Jun sees how Nino's obviously tired from staying up, his eyes a little unfocused, but he hasn't relented because Jun is still dreadfully wide awake in spite of his body being horrendously sluggish. “Thank yourself,” comes Nino's tart reply. “This place's coming out of your pocket, you know."

“Of course. And the papers?”

“Go the fuck to sleep.”

Jun sits up. He sees Nino's eyes zero on to him, suddenly sharp, and they're following Jun's exact movements. When Jun reaches over and holds out his hand, Nino relaxes. He meets Jun halfway and catches his hand in a tight clasp.

“Three days,” Nino promises.

Jun acquieses and finally slumps to sleep.

 

*

 

(Later, when he wakes to find himself still holding on to Nino's hand and Tegoshi's bemused eyes watching them, he plays it cool by extracting his hand from Nino's sweat-damp hand and then carefully slipping Nino's down the front of his own trousers to rest against his crotch.

Tegoshi tells him that he didn't see anything. Jun states that there wasn't anything in the first place. They exchange a wicked smile.

Nino wakes up not a minute later and he casually pulls his hand out of his trousers before he decides to stroke the side of Jun's face with it. Horrified, Jun smacks him upside the head for having the balls to do so and Tegoshi, the fucking traitor, laughs like a girl.

They all have day old store bought croquettes and three cups of shit coffee for breakfast. No words are exchanged throughout the entire twenty minutes and yet it feels like they've fallen in tangent with one another, like kindred spirits reuniting after a long time apart. It's a nice feeling this, Jun finds himself thinking as he watches the way Nino curls his shoulders in to squint at the screen of his phone and the way Tegoshi reads over his shoulder shamelessly.

It feels like home.)

 

*

 

True to his word, three days later and when Tegoshi is taking a bath, Nino pulls Jun's phone out of his hand and places it on the coffee table. Jun frowns at him, telling him off for interrupting a phone call to his family - “Which you just ended” Nino points out – before the man plops himself onto Jun's lap. He's holding out a folder to him.

“So it's these then,” Jun states rather than asks as he takes it and flips through, his eyes quickly skimming across the text in the documents.

“Like I said before. It's yours.”

Jun pauses.

He looks at the lengthy wall of information on one of the pages and picks up words like _tenancy_ before he refers to the blueprint on the next page. He discovers that it's an outline, an obvious floorplan of a shop.

“What the fuck.”

He looks at Nino straight in the eye and he sees him watching him back determinedly. Like he's already expected Jun isn't going to be taken in so easily. Jun's stomach lurches uncomfortably under Nino's weight and something which terrifiyngly feels like hope surges up inside him. He's only able to keep himself together when the rational side of him seizes control and weighs it down with a degree of doubt.

Straightening himself, he testily informs, “This area is costly”, because if Nino isn't doing what he thinks he is, he'd give him a deadpan look and probably smack him upside the head for even thinking he'd be that generous.

But then Nino practically floors him when he tells him a little too quickly, “It's already taken care of.”

Jun almost swallows his tongue. It takes a lot of energy to stop himself from letting his jaw drop open unbecomingly. “Excuse me?” It thankfully comes out coldly and Jun rolls with it, shooting the man a sharp look for emphasis.

Nino doesn't shrink but his face shows that he realises his mistake and is attempting to digress. Jun knows him well enough to see that he's trying to be blasé about it in order to stall and keep the situation from going tits up. “Just sign the damn papers,” he says gruffly.

Jun glares at him and presses on. “What's taken care of?”

“It's all legal, I promise. Now will you just shut up and sign it?”

“Not until you come clean with me.”

Nino doesn't say anything immediately and neither does Jun. He raises an eyebrow in challenge and watches the way Nino is starting to look increasingly bothered by the way Jun's now the one stalling this conversation and has seized control of it. Jun feels immensely pleased to see that he's now able to have some power over Nino when the man least expects it and he keeps the stern look on his face.

When Nino shuffles off to sit beside him, it's only then does Jun realise Nino's been giving him this odd exasperated look. It eerily looks like the one he sees on Tegoshi one too many times. The look that says he's tired of Jun being stubborn in holding himself back from reading between the lines. Nino's not sitting on him anymore but the sinking weight is still evident against his stomach, pressing down with punishing force, and he narrows his eyes. Waits, anxious at the way Nino looks torn between clarifying himself at great length or just giving Jun the run down.

He decides to opt for the latter.

“I've taken care of everything,” Nino finally speaks up and he has a purposeful look in his eyes. “All the expenses, the paperwork, licensing, admin shit, you name it. It's all taken care of. All you have to do is just sign and in a few weeks you can open your dream store and get your dream guy. So, like I said before, it's yours. Capiche?”

Jun's heart seizes up and the mood in the room changes.

 

*

 

If Nino thought Jun was happy about the whole 'So yeah I put in some elbow grease and took care of everything for your business so it's all smooth-sailing for you because I'm best friend of the fucking year suck it', he's dead wrong.

Jun is fucking _ecstatic._ But he's also fucking furious.

Because who the fuck is playing such a sick game on him by aligning all the stars and the universes in a fucking straight line so that all this amazing shit could happen to him? Who the fuck gave Nino the right to be this selfless, this unbelievable, this _kind_ to him? Who the fuck thought a stupid fucking heartbreak – the elusive phantom of Sho he's been blindly chasing all this time and they're so close now so so close – could actually get him to this unbelievable point of his life where so many doors have opened up for him and all he has to do is just walk through them without a price whatsoever?

“Holy fuck,” breathes Jun shakily into the cold biting air. His fingers are tense around his cigarette and they're shaking not just from the cold. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses the heel of his palm against his brow. “ _Fuck_.”

After shamefully fleeing from Nino's wide-eyed look and retreating to the balcony, Tegoshi quickly finds him in his harried state of recklessly going through a pack of cigarettes in less than ten minutes. It's only after Tegoshi wrestles the damn carton off him that Jun grudingly relinquishes. “Just take the offer,” Tegoshi tells him bluntly and Jun scowls at him.

“You know I can't do that .”

“And I don't see why though. Jun, you're serious about opening your store. He's serious about you opening your store. I'm serious about him being serious about you being serious about opening your store. We're all being serious here and everything falls in tangent so what's the hiccup here?”

“The hiccup –” Jun snaps. “- is that there's a reason why plans exist. This shouldn't have happened.” He's angrier than he thinks he should be and he makes a show of it by squashing out his cigarette against the railing of the balcony before flicking it off to watch it plummet from a height of nine floors.

“It's called a surprise, Jun. It happens sometimes.”

“Not like this. Not to this level,” Jun says wearily and it's exceptionally trying to keep himself from exploding and falling apart. He's taken years to build up his self-control, his self-assurance in his capabilities and yet it only takes Nino – it's always fucking Nino – to push it all down like a house of cards when he pulls shit like this. “This isn't natural.”

“What, him being kind to you?”

“Him having done so much already and is now topping up with even more. Is he trying to blackmail me?”

“He will if you don't accept this.”

“And how am I supposed to pay him back?”

“By employing me.”

They both turn to see Nino step out into the balcony to join them and he's juggling three bottles of beer in his hands. Tegoshi quickly relieves one off him and he steps back to lean against the wall. It's a clear sign to Jun that he's sitting this one out to let them sort it out and Jun tenses when he feels Nino step into his space. He drops his gaze to the beer the man's currently holding out to him. It's an act entailing a gesture of peace which Jun knows Nino is trying so hard not to squirm under it but he holds himself back from making the man's life easier because Jun's still a bit of an asshole like that. So he lifts his chin and glares at Nino with all the hate and love that he feels for this dickhead right now.

“Piss off.”

“J-baby, you can't be _that_ mad.”

“You've just told me to employ you after you offered me your store. Of course I'm livid.”

Nino makes a small displeased noise. “Take the fucking drink and then we talk.”

Jun scowls at him. Reluctantly, he does and it's only because he's the only one who's beginning to shiver from the cold after standing outside for at least fifteen minutes prior to their company. He doesn't drink it though and he maintains the stony look on his face. Nino stares right back at him and Tegoshi, to the side, takes a swig and pulls a face.

A heavy silence falls between all three of them.

“I'm not doing this to spite you,” Nino finally says in an effort to explain himself when Jun refuses to cave in. He's looked away from Jun and is now directing a thoughtful look towards his own beer. The look seems far too serious and misplaced on his face. “And it's not because you're incapable, either.”

“Yet you did it."

"Yeah, I did."

"You going to tell me why?"

Nino's throat moves but it's Tegoshi's voice which rings out, answering, “Because that's what friends do.” He says this almost too easily and it's apparent from Tegoshi's tone that he's fed up with the mounting tension between them. Jun can't help but think that this feels a bit like that time when they cleared the air between them in the library and the look on his face – exasperated yet still full of fondness -merely confirms it. The situation here, Jun realises, is that they both see it as a selfless act that is out of the goodness of their hearts. That helping out a friend achieve his dream, no matter how stupid, fucked up and selfish it is, is something worth doing because it simply is.

“That's not a...” begins Jun weakly but he's quickly interrupted by Nino who suddenly takes a step forward and taps his bottle against Jun's.

“Teppyon's right. That's exactly what friends do,” he echoes and there's a small genuine smile on his lips which makes Jun's chest tighten, swell and close to the point of bursting. “So stop being such a stubborn bitch and just accept our help. There's only one step left between you and Sho-chan, after all.”

 

*

 

It takes another three days, lots of thinking and breathing exercises and only after Jun is presented an obscenely expensive bottle of wine (which was Nino's idea but Tegoshi's money), does he finally lower his pride and agree to sign the papers. Of course Jun is adamant to meticulously read and check every single document he's signing and Nino sits by idly, patient and observant. Tegoshi, after all the drama ebbs down to the gentle waves of a calm sea, throws a huff over his shoulder and retreats to the spare room – which is now officially his, Nino grudgingly agrees when the Swiss more or else dumps his personal artefacts in there – to continue unpacking to the laughingly streamy lyrics of a popular idol group he's gotten attached to.

“What's in it for you?” Jun suddenly finds himself asking the very question that twenty-year old Jun would never have had the courage to ask. It's a burning question which has been sitting on the edge of his tongue all week.

Nino lifts a brow. “Aside from getting my share of your wealth _and_ kicking Sho-chan in the balls?”

Jun taps the ash off his cigarette against the rim of his ashtray and pulls a face. “So, what, you've just decided to work _for_ me out of the goodness of your heart?”

“That and I'm just keeping a close eye on you so you don't run off with all that profit, Prince of Sweets,” Nino says sweetly as he gathers up all the signed documents once he sees Jun's done with them and nicks his cigarette off him. “So don't you worry your pretty head and let me do all the thinking. Wouldn't want it falling off before Sho-chan sniffs you out.”

Jun rolls his eyes and he watches Nino scuttle back to his apartment next door, puffing rings of smoke behind him.

“You guys are so gross.”

Jun looks up to see Tegoshi's head pop out from his room. His hair is haphazardly bobby pinned, much like when they first met, and he's wiggling his eyebrows stupidly.  Jun reaches over and lights up another cigarette.  “Your face is gross."

“I love you too, sweetie.”

“Nino wouldn't like that.”

“Well Nino can go suck his own balls.”

There's a small ping and Jun sees an email pop up in his phone's notification.

 _Tell him to fuck off because no one needs cheap Euro trash here,_ is all what Nino eloquently writes and Jun wordlessly forwards it to Tegoshi.

“Fucking piece of _shit_.”

 

*

 

It's when they're in the middle of having dinner – yakiniku, because Tegoshi won at jankenpon that night – when Tegoshi brings up something Jun has been dreading for _years_.  Tegoshi's comfortable, his body leaning back against the dining chair but tilted towards Nino who's happily chewing around some grilled meat, and he's going, “Say if Sho turns up out of the blue, like right now when you least expect it and you're so horribly ill-prepared, how are you going to sweep him off his feet?”

Nino lowers the pair of tongs clasped in his hand, clearly reigned in whenever the subject of Sho pops up, and he's nodding along, looking positively wicked when he notices how the question had made Jun falter for a milisecond.  Damn it.  “Yeah, Junpon," says Nino smilingly as he waves the tongs around, almost dropping the meat. "Tell us. I'm pretty sure you've got something good planned.”

"Oh, pray, do tell," eggs Tegoshi.

“I'm not interested in sweeping him off his feet,” Jun answers almost instantly and he takes a mouthful of beer. He pauses for a moment, savouring how it burns down his throat with a bitter aftertaste and how in that one second, he can easily recall all the expressions of Sho that he's hardwired into his brain over the years. “I'll make him crawl to me,” he says through liquid confidence.

Nino almost throws the tongs to the ground when he lets out a delighted whoop and laughs with a clap of his hands.

Tegoshi looks utterly scandalised and gasps, “What happened to shoving palets fins up his ass? And my legos!”

"That too, if all else fails," Jun agrees with a wicked little grin and Tegoshi placates, merrily topping up Jun's glass with more beer.  "We'll show him.  I'll one up him.  And then he'll fucking regret and it's going to be fucking dramatic I tell you."

"Just like one of those chick flicks?" grins Nino.

"Fucking  _exactly._ "

 

*

 

It's three and a half weeks later after signing the papers and Jun has stopped his morning run to stand at the corner of Shinjuku in front of the white-washed vintage-esque shop. It's not open for business yet but he looks on proudly because it's _his_ shop. His own haute chocolatarie store.

Finally.

Unbelievable.

 _White Rabbit_ , the fancy wooden sign beside the door reads and Jun tries to fight the swell of emotion that's bubbling up his chest with a smile. There's no clever reason behind the name to be honest. He just remembers the overwhelming sense of _yes_ when he'd watched the scene where Alice had followed after the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland years ago and he'd thought then, _that's what it's going to be._ Sho may not be that big of a fan towards sweets and chocolates but he won't turn away something that piques his interest. He'll follow after it and he'll keep following until he's selfishly had his fill. To think that it's taken nine years of his hard work, his effort and his amazing support to get to this point where he's almost there and that it's now all just a matter of time.

“He's so fucking close.”

“Who is?"

Jun turns his head and blinks.

A second slips past sluggishly as the gears of his brain slowly turn before finally clicking in place.

All of a sudden, he feels simultaneously ice-cold and scorching hot all over. His heart stutters to stop and then jumpstarts to pound so hard and so fast against his ribcage that Jun actually jerks to recalibrate himself because he feels like he's just been shoved out of a plane and is free-falling through nonentity. His heart is still going thump, thump, thump and his mouth feels like it's so full of cotton, even though there's like a million and one things that are skipping through his mind like a scratched record that's struggling to keep on playing.  In a second, he's suddenly thrown back nine years ago where he's standing in this exact spot, listening to that dainty tinkle of chinaware and that broken record going round and round and thinking about how it would be nice if he'd bring -

All of a sudden, a schoolgirl cycles past him. The light _ring ring_ of her bell and the breeze which follows after her snaps Jun out of his thoughts.  He's back, nine years later and almost teetering off his balance as he opens his mouth to say something, anything really, but he quickly shuts it because he realises that there, standing no less than three feet away and looking calm as anything even though the wind is tearing through his hair, is Sakurai Sho.

It's just like one of those chick flicks and Jun is so horribly ill-prepared.

Shit.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun is clearly being unnecessarily dramatic. That's all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shelling this chapter out was tough. Because sometimes I just like being difficult to myself and end up hating myself for being unnecessarily difficult. I had mentioned in the comments that I would try updating weekly once upon a time but that isn't possible right now. Writing a thesis is serious business. I feel like I've lost half of my soul and I've barely scratched the surface with my research. Nevertheless, I will try as best as I can to shell out chapters regularly. 
> 
> So this chapter. Let's call it the 'wow appreciate the pretty thing that is Sakurai Sho and make Jun's life miserable because life is hard' chapter.
> 
> As always, thank you for your patience and support! x

 

Jun is miles away from registering whether or not Sakurai Sho has actually asked him a question. Or said anything at all really because Jun is still trying to come to terms with the fact that he's actually standing there, all perfectly poised in a bespoke suit and looking at Jun with his intelligent eyes. Age has been good to him. Jun sees that the softness of his cheeks is mostly gone and now replaced with wonderful sharp angles. His cheekbones, for one thing, are _ridiculous_ . As is his nose. His mouth. And, fuck me, that _jaw_. There's a ghost of a smile on Sho's lips and it's like he's unsure of whether or not it's appropriate to do so for some reason. Jun almost wants to tell him that it is and that his hair, in spite of it being so breezy, looks absolutely wonderful in its windswept state.

 _This shouldn't happen though_ , the tretcherous little voice in the back of his head cuts in with a vicious snarl. _Not this early, not_ unplanned _._

Jun is violently pulled out of his rosy-hued thoughts, out of mindlessly appraising Sho's long-lived wonderfulness and he's slammed back down to earth, fiddling with the hems of his sleeves and trying so hard to not look as confounded as he feels. It's then that he sees that Sho is looking at him closely, observingly in fact, and something sparks in Jun's chest. Like nostalgia maybe. The hairs on his arms prickle in anticipation and suddenly the air between them shifts and become charged. In that moment, Jun feels like anything can happen and the thought of an anything with Sho almost makes him a little dizzy and breathless.

He manages to wheeze out, “Sakurai-san” and Sho blinks, the movement surprisingly slow and elegant. It's almost like watching a butterfly in descent and it causes something to stir in Jun's chest. It has him waiting in bated breath as Sho slowly turns to face him. The sunlight catches on his brown hair as well as the tip of his nose and fuck, Jun can't help but think he looks positively _devastating._

“It's been a long time,” he hears Sho say in that wonderful fruity voice of his and he wants to tell him, yes it's taken nine years for our worlds to align and you're still unforgettable you tit. Instead, Jun forces a polite smile and nods, “It has.” His response comes out clear and collected. Very good for a first impression. Nino would be so, so proud.

Sho tilts his head in acknowledgement and his eyes appear to brighten at this angle. The look he's gracing Jun is amiable and genteel. It's an appropriate move done on Sho's part and though Jun isn't at all surprised by the politeness he's receiving, he can't help but commend him for it. It's a completely different (and clearly less dramatic) situation than what he had imagined their first encounter to be. No stinging verbal lashings, no physical contact and certainly no huffy retreats. Jun can't help but think of how Tegoshi will be sorely disappointed.

“You look well,” Sho comments and there's an unusual amount of astonishment in his voice. It's almost as if he can't believe that Jun is standing right there in front of him even though he was the one who approached him. “It's hard to believe that I almost didn't recognise you.”

“Well, it _has_ been years. Changes are to be expected,” Jun states frankly and he just barely saves himself from crumpling because Sho suddenly bursts out laughing. It's not the usual one he keeps seeing in his mind's eye – the one where he throws his head back and the length of his strong neck is on full display – but it's still as equally rich and hearty. Mature. A wickedly pleasant sound that he ends up greedily hoarding to his memory banks. “Of course! Of course! My apologies, Matsumoto-san,” Sho says a little breathlessly and his nose crinkles in his gaiety. “I have to say that it's a good form of change though. It's age. Age's been good to you.”

“And you. You're still exquisite.”

Jun catches the way Sho's eyebrows arch inquisitively at that and he feels like stepping out into the street and waiting for a truck to run him over for that major blunder because of all times for his mouth to run off by itself. Shitty timing, Jun thinks and quickly acts to defuse the situation when he notices how Sho appears to still be in the middle of processing his words. He straightens his back and schools his features into a practiced look of composure. Stamping down the growing panic before it settles, he easily slips into his second skin – the capable, confident and very in control Matsumoto Jun that he's painstakingly built from his blood, sweat and tears - and shoots Sho a challenging look, as if to dare him to argue otherwise.

“Is that so?”

Sho doesn't appear to preen or look at all that affected but after a long gruelling moment of nothing but mild curiosity on his face, his mouth then stretches into a dazzling smile and he looks absolutely _delighted_. “Then it's only fair that I tell you that you're still just as remarkable. If not more.” He delivers it like a well-rehearsed line. It's on point and almost faithful to the original.

What the fuck?

Jun regards him with a slight wide-eyed look and suddenly he feels like he's been flung back nine years ago, to that moment when Jun had blurted about exquisiteness in the home economics room with his heart on his sleeve and Sho had been sitting right across from him with a mouthful of scallops and looking just as delighted. A gaping silence, neither awkward nor meaningful, had wedged itself in between them then, just as it has right now. Jun's heart leaps to his throat and the hair on the back of his neck prickles. Something is brewing in the air and Jun knows, he can feel how tingly the tips of his fingers and how his heart skips a beat are all glaring signs that a fucking  _moment_ is happening between them.  

A scooter putters past and the breeze it brings with it causes Sho's fringe to flutter just as the man's eyes flick up to meet his. And that's it.  That's it.  Jun is gone. Jun is going. Jun is moving forward because something overwhelming swells up in his chest and compels him into action, his brain switching itself off when he feels primal instinct take over. He stops just a step away from Sho and he's close, so so close that he can smell the cool muskiness of his cologne wafting from his neck. “Sakurai-san,” he addresses in a low voice and he's about to do something – anything, his mind wickedly provides – when he spots the briefcase that Sho's holding in his left hand. Been holding all this time as a matter of fact. Jun blinks. His brain switches back on.

“Yes?” He hears Sho breathe and it comes out in steady puffs. It's normal. Completely unaffected.

The moment has shattered.

Just as quickly as it was there, it's now gone and Jun feels a flash of embarrassment streak through him - fucking hell, he tried to come on to him and the guy didn't even bat an eye? - and it leaves a blazing trail of affront in its wake. “You were reconnoitering,” Jun remarks accusingly. His brain is up and running and it rudely reminds him that of course this is Sho. He moves with purpose. He isn't here to give him a simple courtesy call. He's here because he's working and he had been scoping out the place. Evaluating, maybe.  Well isn't that sneaky.  Upholding this discovery, Jun gives him a hard stare and Sho, weirdly enough, looks a little embarrassed.

“I read your interview in a Belgian article,” he says, not really answering. “I'm a little pissed actually.”

It throws Jun off but a wave of satisfaction rolls through him at that.  Unable to help himself, he tells the older man smugly, “Chocolates aren't your forte.”

“That,” Sho unexpectedly agrees and then he's not smiling. “And the fact that I wasn't the first to write about you.”

Jun stares at Sho. He surmises the impressive poker-face the man has going on and wildly thinks, what is this? This is new. This is something Sho's never really done before. The Sho he knew before had always been animated and expressive so for him to suddenly present Jun this front, this unsettling blank face, is gravely discombobulating. An eye for an eye, Jun realises later when he notes how Sho has not taken a step back from Jun to re-establish the polite distance between them but rather seems to settle in it. Revel in it. Challenge it. Sho is doing what Jun did before. He's projecting himself and giving Jun a taste that it's not only him who has surprises up his sleeve. He's showing that he can just as easily take over a situation and be in control of it. With just a few choice words, he's already succeeded in throwing Jun off balance because Jun has come to the realisation that this man in front of him is not as straight-forward as he believes he is. He's warped and evolved and isn't dazzling anymore. He's become terrifyingly  _blinding_.

Jun swallows down the bile he thinks is rising up in his throat and squares his shoulders.

_Has his eyes always been that intense?_

“You have the chance now,” Jun finds himself stupidly blurting after a long while when neither of them speak. He catches the way Sho's throat moves a little and he licks his dry lips. “The first in Japan.”

Sho's eyes seem to darken. “I know. I intend to do that.”

“Good.”

Jun takes a steadying breath and Sho blinks, the movement quick and nothing like the effortless elegance from before.  They break eye contact. From the corner of his eye, Jun sees Sho flick his wrist to take a meaningful glance at his watch. It's quite a fluid movement that makes him wonder if Sho's still the type to painstakingly keep in line with his schedules down to the very minute. He probably is. That Jun thinks he can be entirely sure of.

“I apologise for taking up your private time,” Sho is soon telling him and when Jun dares to look up he sees that the intensity from before is gone. There's an apologetic look on his face as he wraps both of his hands around the handle of his briefcase and inclines his head. All prim, perfect and well-practiced. “I have to take my leave now but I'm certain we'll meet again under better circumstances soon.” The note of finality is subtle but glaringly present in his voice and it has Jun flashing him a tight smile in return.

“Of course. I'll be sure to invite you to the opening, Sakurai-san.”

“Thank you. I look forward to it. Until then, Matsumoto-san.” Sho gives him one more courteous bow and a small smile before he finally turns on his heel and leaves. The wind picks up then at such a timely manner and it kicks up the tails of his jacket. Jun observes the way it flutters and he thinks, _ah. That's dramatic. Like the back of a dashing hero in a prime time drama._

This is perhaps the part where the heroine will run after him and grab him by the lapels of his suit, determined to not make him leave with the last word, determined to make him stay and convince him that this is not how things ought to be. That this should be the climax which signifies a beginning rather than the end.

It would be so easy to do just that.

But Jun can't move his feet. He sees the distance that's growing, no, is apparent between them. Sho is only ten feet away ahead but Jun feels like he's at another place entirely. He's there within the same space as Jun but they're both not in the same dimension.

It's not easy. It's not straight forward.

Jun lets him leave.

 

*

 

He crashes through his entrance with the grace of a newborn giraffe and storms through his apartment. He's antsy. His heart is pounding so hard against his rib cage that it frighteningly feels like it's trying to leap out of his chest and splatter on the floor in a mucilaginous mess. He also can't shake off the jittery feeling in his hands and it's horrible. He hasn't felt this capsized, raw, and exposed in years and it's an absolutely ugly feeling.

“You okay?”

Jun startles. He turns around in time to see Tegoshi saunter in and make a beeline towards the refrigerator. It appears today is the day where he's decided to grace Jun with an ensemble of what looks like a sarong, a tank top and a sequin scarf wrapped around his head like some exotic turban of sorts. The sight, though repulsing, is weirdly soothing to his frayed nerves.

“Fine,” Jun lies a beat later and in a tone that sounds much calmer than he actually feels.

Tegoshi notices the pause and instantly eyes him. “You don't look fine,” he observes.

“I will be,” asserts Jun, crossing his arms. He takes a steadying breath and tries to stop freaking out. He tries to stop thinking about Sho and how he thinks their meeting should have gone so much better. “I dropped by the store just now. It's just hard to believe sometimes.” It's the partial truth and he waits, gauging the calculating look Tegoshi's giving him. He's relieved to see the empathetic look which eventually surfaces on Tegoshi's face and graciously accepts the porcelain mug the man hands him after he retrieves it from one of the cupboards.

“Nino was right. You really are such a gentle thing. Want a triple shot?”

“Please.”

They drink in companionable silence for the rest of the morning (Jun with his gruelling triple shot of espresso and Tegoshi with his lavish monstrosity of hot buttered toffee coffee), leaning into each other's spaces at the kitchen island as they go through their itinerary of the day. That is until Nino bustles in noisily in an ensemble of equally gaudy looking clothes that is nowhere acceptable to mankind. Seriously, are those mini teddy bears sewn on his shirt? Jun takes a mouthful of espresso and swallows down the bitterness in the wild hope that he's been dreaming all this time. He isn't.

“You alright?” Nino asks the moment he slinks over and steals a sip of Tegoshi's drink after giving a pat of approval to his turban.

“He will be,” answers Tegoshi when Jun doesn't bother looking up. “Baby Jun here was just all emotional about the shop.”

“Aww. I told you.” Nino ambles over and smackers a wet toffee kiss on Jun's temple. “He'll always be our sweet prince.”

“Your matching outfits are gross," grouses Jun. "Get out.”

Nino's braying cackle and his body warmth as he sidles up next to Jun in spite of Tegoshi's squawks of displeasure is a welcomed distraction. Jun nudges the man's shoulder hard with his own and despite almost knocking Nino right out of his seat he receives an atrocious wink in return. For the rest of the morning, the three of them sit around the island counter and work. While Jun is doing some bookkeeping, Tegoshi dutifully refills their cups with unnecessarily lavish gourmet coffee in between his emailing and Nino is constantly on his phone, calling up his 'people' to speed things along. (He does this rollickingly while ignoring Jun's hard stares because he knows how much Jun is uncomfortable with all this 'short-cutting' they're doing via his network and that he probably intends to exasperate the hell out of him just because he knows he fucking can, the piece of shit).

Slowly and eventually, Sakurai Sho drifts to the back of his mind and their meeting is, for the moment, put aside and not mentioned.

 

*

 

Sakurai Sho never leaves his mind.

As a matter of fact, he takes a looming presence at the forefront of Jun's head and the guilt he feels whenever he sees Nino and Tegoshi cast encouraging smiles or playful jabs at him for working so hard is stifling.

 _It's not worth mentioning because it wasn't anything to blow up about and he's nothing but a distraction right now_ , is what Jun convinces himself in an everyday mantra. _Don't ask, don't tell._

And it works to an extent. What with the grand opening drawing closer in less than a fortnight, Jun's mind is occupied. His nerves are on edge and he's teetering towards paranoia because it's one thing that he's opening his very own shop but the fact that he knows that it takes _a lot_ to impress Sakurai Sho and that he's already met the man far earlier than planned means that he's now on overdrive. He's been constantly dropping by White Rabbit, checking and re-checking that everything is going in the right place, that the colour palette of the store is correct, that the right ambiance is struck.  Sometimes, his family drops by to check up on him and though he appreciates the little gifts they always bring with them - usually food because nothing beats homemade cooking, though he teases his sister for having a shit palate because she's currently expecting - it's distracting and eventually they understandably leave him to his devices.  He's been so busy since that the worry and the guilt of keeping mum becomes buried and momentarily forgotten. So when Nino drops by to the shop with a bag of convenience store croquettes and two cans of shit vending machine coffee one night and says, “You're still a freak when it comes to Sho-chan”, he freezes like a man who's just been told he'll be standing on death row. He stops fiddling with one of the ovens and looks straight at Nino with his heart lodged in his throat.

“What?”

Nino merely holds up the bag of food and shakes it enticingly before he places it on the large marble workstation in the middle of the room. “Sho-chan,” he repeats with a certain emphasis that rolls the name on his tongue but says nothing else after that, as if Sho's name was self-explanatory enough. It probably is. He watches Nino hop up on to the marble surface and sit there. It's only a few seconds too late that Jun realises he doesn't immediately tell him off as he usually does and Nino notices straightaway. He doesn't waste any words. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jun immediately curtails.

“Of course.” Nino gives him a critical eye.

“Everything is perfect.”

“Jun.”

“You can clearly see that I've run out of things to look over.”

“Is this really about the shop?”

“Isn't everything about the shop?”

It's almost like a game of who can cut each other's words faster right now and Nino, upon seeing how dogged Jun is to throw him off, isn't at all pleased. He scrutinises Jun, his mouth set to a hard line, and Jun maintains eye contact with him. Squares his jaw and shoulders to set his foot down firmly because he is just as stubborn as Nino is. _He's just a distraction,_ Jun keeps reminding himself. _He's just the right impetus for me, for us right now._

Nino hasn't outrightly asked so he won't tell.

 

*

 

He never tells Nino about his encounter with Sho and Nino never asked.

A tense night passes with little words. The shit coffee and croquettes went untouched and Jun tries to not feel like the world's biggest asshole when he dumps the entire bag into the bin. They don't bring it up the following day when Tegoshi joins them at the shop in an ensemble of what looks like a host club member's getup nor the day after when they split up to their tasks. Jun isn't sure if he ought to feel relieved or even more of pisshead than before.

“Are you feeling okay?” Tegoshi asks him one day when he takes a minute longer to stare at the black and white tiles of White Rabbit, thoughtlessly running his fingers across the sparkling glass countertop of one of the vintage display cases.

“It's going to be better than okay.” He says this more as an attempt to reassure himself than an answer and sees how Tegoshi visibly perks, picking up on it. He warily watches how the man stops rearranging one of the sporadic piles of antique hardback books on the floor to peer over his shoulder. Rather than a sceptical look, there's a kind smile on his lips and it causes a horrible weight to sink to the bottom of Jun's stomach.

“Of course,” Tegoshi encourages. “You're remarkable, after all.”

“Right.”

“Keep your spirits up! Fight!” exclaims Tegoshi enthusiastically, pumping his fist into the air.

Jun mimics the movement, even though he feels terrible deep down inside when he realises he's already compared how Sho's 'remarkable' had sounded far more convincing than his friend's.

 

*

 

“It's because you're only human.”

Jun doesn't need to turn on the lights to know that it's Nino who's perched at his kitchen counter at this ungodly hour of the night. From the darkness, ha can that the man's nursing what looks like a bottle of his swanky beer and there's a squashed out cigarette in Jun's overfilled ashtray. It's been hours since he last saw him but he can see how his bright eyes are starting to look dull in the dark. Jun wagers that it's either from the alcohol, his thoughts or both. Seeing that he can't just very well leave, he strides to the fridge and pours out two glasses of cold water. He sets one on the counter and wordlessly Nino helps himself.

“What does?” Jun decides to ask conversationally but it feels awfully strained somehow. It's the first time they've attempted to strike a conversation since that evening at the shop and he doesn't remember how talking to Nino could be this hard. It feels forced and uncomfortable that even the cloak of darkness is unable to hide just how naked he feels.

“Being insecure. Afraid,” Nino lists. He takes a sip of his water and gulps noisily. “Sho-chan's human too, you know.”

“So we're talking about Sho now?”

“Isn't everything always about Sho?”

Jun narrows his eyes and he feels a little irritated at how he can actually hear the bother in Nino's voice. At how he's the one responsible for putting that bother there in the first place. “I don't see why you should be surprised then,” he grits out unhappily.

“I don't see why you should be so freaked out then.”

“It's Sakurai fucking Sho. We're _days_ away from opening. Of course I'd freak out.”

“Because something's going on.” Nino casts an expectant look his way and Jun catches how he's phrased his words in order to bait him. He's fucking smart like that. Just like Sho.

“It's nothing.”

“And you're shaking.”

He is, slightly. Jun scowls at the other man and stays situated by the fridge. He hears Nino grunt unhappily at his dismissal and he can almost feel the exasperation that's rolling off him in waves. He turns his glass over and over in his hand because he finds it ridiculous how Nino just won't fucking drop it because he's adamant to get down to the very core of the issue. Which he shouldn't get involved in because that was what it all was, wasn't it?  Just an issue.

Jun's lizard brain pauses at that. It shifts, turns his words over and over and then, like a light switch being flipped on, it's suddenly very awake. Because suddenly he's thinking, _was meeting Sho-san that big of issue?_ Did Sho really scare him _that_ much? He tries to deconstruct and determine just what or why was something actually holding him back from telling Nino in the first place. Was he afraid of being judged? Or was it the fact that Nino was forcing him open the can of worms he's long kept hidden, just as Tegoshi had once done back in Switzerland?

The tension in the air breaks when Nino suddenly sighs out loud in the deafening silence. There's a telltale sound of a stool screeching and Nino standing up.  Jun stops turning his glass. He hears Nino come over and the man suddenly grabs hold of his forearm.

“ _Don't_ –”

“Damn it, Jun.”

Jun resists when he feels fingers touch the hair above his nape and Nino stepping into his personal space. He sees the liquid confidence in Nino's eyes, the sheer determination that he wants shit settled tonight. Jun glares at him and demands his release.  Nino refuses and returns his glare with a long hard stare.  "Listen to me," he begins in a harsh whisper. "You are going to wipe his ass on the floor, you hear me?  You're more than capable.  Remember what you said last time?  He'll fucking regret, you'll be on top of the world and it'll be fucking dramatic."  He squeezes his arm. "So stop freaking the fuck out, Matsumoto Jun. Sho should be, not you." He cuts in before Jun can open his mouth, adding, "You're catching up to him."

With that said, Jun sees himself being taken back to six years ago. He recalls how he had reached a low point back then and like the wizard he is, Nino had been there to pick him up and dust him off from the graceless stumble he's made because Jun had been so blinded by his own self-doubt. It's happening again, he realises. He's taken yet another stumble, sitting on the floor and blindly grappling at Sho's shadow that's long and stretched across the pavement, and then Nino's suddenly looming over him. He hauls Jun up to his feet and that's when Jun sees things from a different view.  He can see Sho and his exquisiteness and the shadow that's pooled out between them.  But that isn't what's striking.  What's striking is that Jun can now see that he and Sho are actually both standing on the same path.  No walls. No tricky obstacles. Just a shadow. Sho holds his hand up and his index finger is pointing upwards.  He's smirking and his mouth moves but it's Nino's voice whom he hears saying,

"One more step."

Jun looks straight into Nino's eyes.  They're back in the dark kitchen and the clock on his microwave changes.  It's three a.m.

"Even if you're still universes apart?"

Nino doesn't speak immediately but his gaze sharpens instantly. There's a myriad of emotions flickering through his eyes before something close to understanding eventually surfaces. It looks like Nino's already figured out what's happened. He tilts his head to the side. “What do you do when there's a wall between you?” is what he unexpectedly asks after a long while. At the strange look Jun gives him, he flashes a gummy smile and it's not unkind in any way. “You bulldoze it, you doofus. There's no such thing as multiple dimensions. You're both human, after all. We all are.” He runs his fingers through Jun's hair and rubs at his scalp gently. “Man, you really can't do anything when I'm not around huh. You really fall apart at the most insignificant of things.”

Jun flusters. “Fuck off.”

Nino laughs and it's the hybrid yelp-sneeze one. “I swear to god, sometimes you are just unnecessarily dramatic.”

Jun huffs in response but at the reassurance he sees shining in Nino's eyes, he feels the unbearable weight lift off his shoulders and the sinking feeling that's been making him sick in his stomach for weeks instantly disappear.  All his worries seem to dissipate and he feels lighter, empowered. They stay like that for a long while, not saying anything but Jun thinks it's easier to breathe now.  That it's going to be more than okay.

 

*

 

Fuck it, he feels like he's suffocating.

He can feel the weight of curious gazes from his other guests on them but Jun takes no mind of it. Not with Sakurai Sho standing right in front of him. It's only been three hours since the doors of White Rabbit opened to mark his beginning but with the man of the hour himself standing right there under the warm glow of his lighting fixtures – so close, he's fucking _glowing_ for heaven's sake– Jun can feel lungs seize up and the hours fade into nothing.  He's been a tirade of emotions all evening, a dangerous mix of all sorts of everything and like a shaken up bottle of soda, he's teetering on the verge of exploding at any given moment because this is it.  This is where he declares it all starts.

“Matsumoto-san.”

He glances down and sees two flutes of champagne in Sho's hands, one of which is being offered to him.

“Good evening, Sakurai-san,” he greets with a short polite bow and accepts the drink graciously even though he's probably had one too many throughout the evening. He puts up his confident front and is pleased to see Sho respond to it almost instantly, if the subtle straightening of his posture means anything. “Thank you for your time. I'm deeply humbled.”

“No, it's nothing to worry about, please.” Sho flashes him a friendly smile as if he is aware of how jittery Jun is all night and it is oddly flattering to see his mindfulness. “If anything I should thank you for the invitation, Matsumoto-san. Please.” He opens up his sleek black leather card holder and slips one card out, presenting it to Jun with both hands. Jun automatically does the same, the movement almost second nature to him whenever he's at social events, and they exchange business cards. Jun takes his time to look at the name of the very high-brow food magazine Sho's working for and his insides squirm. “This place is absolutely stunning, I must say,” Sho remarks, sounding genuinely impressed, and this time it makes Jun's stomach flip when he's tucking Sho's card away into his card holder. “It's almost otherworldly. A homage to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland I take it?”

“Well. To some extent.”

“How intriguing. Any particular reason why?”

“Not particularly.  Are you interviewing me right now?”

Sho laughs and he takes a dainty sip of his champagne. The way he shapes his lips in order to press them against the gold rim of his glass is terribly distracting. Jun tries not to stare. “I've been told that I have trouble separating work from my private life,” Sho admits sheepishly. “But no, this isn't an interview. Rest assured, Matsumoto-san. Although if you would like to do one soon, please don't hesitate to contact me. I'll definitely make time for you.”

“Still eager to be the first?”

"Absolutely." At the quirk of Jun's brow, Sho raises his drink towards him. “I wouldn't miss it for the world.” When Jun clinks their flutes together, their eyes linger on each other for the first time that night. Sho's mouth curls up into a rather demure smile. It causes a spark of want to ignite deep inside of Jun. “Congratulations. To you and your endeavours," Sho toasts in a low voice that would have been lost in the loud background music if it weren't for the subtle but unmistakable heat in it. Whoa. "Welcome back, Matsumoto-san.”

Jun returns the smile with one of his own and gives him a half-lidded glance. "Why, thank you. I intend to stay."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun meets the rest of the cast and then Sho is nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's where things speed up a little and we are introduced to the rest of cast, mainly Aiba and Ohno. The image of Aiba that I have in this chapter is a mixture of MagicalSong!Aiba and MrFUNK!Aiba. I think those two concepts melded together are pretty intriguing. So rather than just blindly turning him into a fabulous gay man like Rikudo, I tried keeping Aiba as normal as possible. And by normal I mean acceptably eccentric.
> 
> As for Ohno, I don't think I can say much about him than just being Ohno. I think he's the type who wouldn't say much but if he does, he's surprisingly blunt without really meaning to. He's the sort of guy that you can't help but hang on to his every word and somehow open up to him, even if he probably isn't really interested. The way he takes things as it goes is perhaps more of Nino's thing but I think it suits the Erena!Ohno I tried to write here.
> 
> As always, a huge thank you for comments, kudos and the likes! I greatly appreciate it!

Everything is going swimmingly and it's barely been a week since opening.

The moment Jun sits down with a mug of coffee after tending to his super cute loyal little customer Hana-chan and her mother Inoue-san, Nino promptly slides Sho's high-brow magazine under his nose and stabs his finger on the wide grinning face of a man who has the words 'Pandora' splayed out beneath him.

“That's it. We're done for.”

Jun scans the page and frowns when he catches the name 'Aiba Masaki'. It doesn't ring a bell but there's something unnerving about those glittery eyes of his and the width of his smile. He steals a glance at the bottom of the page and upon seeing that the cover story is not written by Sho, he turns back to his coffee. Nino plops down into the adjacent seat and taps the magazine. He huffs in disbelief. “Are you taking the piss right now?”

“He's a new chocolatier, so what?”

“Not just a. 'The' new chocolatier. He's flying back from Korea after working there for years.” Jun peeks up and sees how Nino's smile turns all shark-like. “Apparently he was quite the hotshot there so he's now aiming to stretch his wings out and open up a sister branch here,” he adds.

“Europe and Korea are two different things entirely,” Jun points out staunchly, swirling his coffee.

“It's enough to land him an interview _prior_ to opening.”

Jun grunts unhappily but isn't baited. There's a lot of young people popping up here and there attempting to make a breakthrough in the industry and while Jun applauds them for their tenacity and vigour (and their full utilisation of connections), he isn't at all that bothered. Because as long as Sho has eyes for him, then that's enough now isn't it? As long as Sho will keep his eyes on him and Jun will make sure that he only has eyes for him then it's fine. It's more than okay.

He raises his mug to take a sip. It never reaches his mouth though because just as quickly as Nino had appeared to join his company, the man's already disappeared to the back room with Jun's mug in tow. He's purposely left the magazine behind on the table with Aiba Masaki's silly face grinning up at him and Jun, miffed, flips the darn thing closed.

 

*

 

“So when are you going to fuck Sho-san in the asshole?”

Tegoshi breezes into the kitchen and sweeps up the three trays of pralines Jun's just finished decorating. For all his playfulness, Tegoshi is admirably light on his feet when it comes to working that even Nino can't help but grumble. Nino may be sourpuss by call him a 'fucking show off' (because he's starting to realise that he's easily pointed out as the deadweight in the group) but Jun's quick to correct him by calling Tegoshi 'committed' just to royally piss him off. However, it's these moments of when Tegoshi is sincerely working but lets his mouth run off by itself which Jun hates because he can't feel as angry as he wishes to be without seeming like an absolute prat.

Jun steadfastly sprinkles some golden sugar crystals on the bonbons he's currently working on. “And why are you so interested in me fucking Sho-san in the asshole?” He tries to dispel such a tantalising image – holy shit Tegoshi, really – and if the man notices him sprinkling too much sugar, he's doing rather well in holding himself back from gloating in his face.

“Well you obviously can't keep postponing the magazines that are interested in doing a coverage on you and the store,” Tegoshi says frankly to Jun's surprise and the conversation takes a different turn. It catches him off-guard sometimes, that in spite of his playfulness Tegoshi is actually quite a serious person under all that glaring pompousness. He meets Tegoshi's level gaze regardfully. “We need all the promotion we can get, you know,” his friend adds. “More networking. I hope you're not becoming complacent.”

“The fuck?”

“I'm just saying. Aiba Masaki has a four page spread and he hasn't even officially opened his business yet.” Again. Aiba Masaki is brought into the conversation. Seriously, what's so extraordinary about this guy, anyway? So what if he's just some guy who came back from Korea to open up a sister branch in Roponggi. “I know you've got Sho-san's pretty card laid out on your bedside table at home but when are you actually going to gather the balls to call him?”

“You've seriously got that little faith in me?” Jun gives him a tight-lipped smile. He's long accepted the fact that Tegoshi's sense of propriety is little to non-existent but really? Snooping around Sho's card? What a creep.

“I'm just saying time is of the essence, that's all.”

Jun turns back to the bonbons, eyebrows drawn tight. “I will soon,” he mutters dismissively. “Don't bug me about it anymore.”

He can hear Tegoshi roll his eyes at his back as saunters out to the front. “Yes, _ma'am_.”

Later that evening Jun stares at Sho's card as he sinks into the plush comforter of his bed and thinks, _tomorrow._

 

*

 

Tomorrow becomes two and a half days and Jun has just about finished making the last batch of truffles for the day when he hears a beep from his phone. Balancing a tray of sugar glass in his hands, he steals a peek at the screen as he's walking past his workstation and sees that it's an email from Sho. He falters mid-step. He catches the words 'honoured for the opportunity' and 'will drop by Saturday morning' and 'I look forward to working with you'.

Jun drops the tray.

Nino flinches from the corner of the kitchen, an undignified screech falling out of his mouth when his concentration on his DS breaks while Tegoshi, the fuckass, cackles hard from where he had tactically retreated to the backroom.

“You absolute _penis_!” Jun snarls. “You went behind my back!” It takes Nino's surprisingly quick reflexes to stop him from breaking into the other room and mauling Tegoshi like a rampant bear. Seeing his rage, Tegoshi looks positively gleeful from behind the small window on the door and laughs at his face.

“You're welcome! Now go fuck him in the asshole!” he cries out crudely in English.

“Tegoshi, unlock the door.”

“No.”

“Unlock it right now.”

“Nooope.”

Nino is instantly by Jun's side before anything could escalate and he's forcibly steering him away and back towards the mess he's left behind. “You're on J's kill list now, Teppyon!” Nino dutifully informs with which Jun gives the Swiss one last withering look.  It then takes the whole afternoon and during peak hour of their business for Tegoshi to finally emerge from his sanctuary and that's when Jun instantly makes a beeline towards him.  He smacks him on the arm with a wooden spoon. Hard.

“Jesus - fuck!” The way Tegoshi's eyes bulge is hilarious.

“Drop that tray and you're going to be in charge of cleaning the whole kitchen spotless for a week,” Jun says seriously and it causes Tegoshi's jaw drop open in disbelief.

“What? But you _hit_ me!”

“Are you asking for another?”

“Told you're a dead man,” snickers Nino as he passes by to relieve Tegoshi's tray out of his hands and then swaggers off to leave him at Jun's mercy. “Just so you know, it was real nice knowing you. Don't you worry about your wages, child. _I'll_ take good care of it,” he finishes with a toothy grin.

“You snivelling piece of shit! You said he wouldn't flip!”

“Oh poor, naïve child.”

 

*

 

"I'm still royally pissed off with you."  

Jun doesn't apologise.  There's no need to because they both understand that Jun likes to 'feel' for the right moment to pop up and Tegoshi has the impatience of a petulant child.  At the end of the day, though, what matters is that time will still march on and Sho is nothing but a master to time.  Sho won't follow the white rabbit if it continues to keep fucking about.

"But you're ready though?"

Jun thinks of their opening night and how in a span of minutes, he and Sho had maintained their polite distance but tiptoed around the line of their expired friendship and snuck each other little glances but never really holding each other's gazes for more than three seconds.  He thinks of the silence that still keeps falling between them and how he feels there is that same odd  _something_ brewing there and then, just as it had been the first time they met weeks ago.  

“Yes,” Jun answers and no, his voice is not wobbly at prospect of meeting Sho again and no, Tegoshi is not giving him a pitying look.

 

*

 

As promised, Sho turns up on a mellow Saturday morning in a blue pea coat. There's a young woman with a china doll bob and mischievous eyes standing next to him and Jun arches a brow at her, assumptions flying through his mind. She, to his surprise, returns it coolly from under the layers of her fluffy orange scarf.

“Tabe Mikako. My colleague who happens to share my birthday. She'll be in charge of photography today,” Sho smoothly introduces with that winning smile of his and Jun crumbles a little inside. (And no, he does not latch on that particular and peculiar piece of information Sho - _shared birthdays Sho are you fucking serious_ \- had passed on to him.  He is not feeling uncomfortable with the little special connection that Sho and Tabe have that he doesn't because becoming envious over little details is unprofessional and dumb).  He sees Tabe give him a polite nod, though the look in her eyes appear to grow a fraction.

“Matsumoto-san. It's an honour to meet you.” Her voice is surprisingly flat to be paired with such an animated face.

Jun forces a polite smile. “Thank you. We're under your care then.”

Everything happens quickly after that. In less than a minute - to which Jun is treated to the marvelous sight of the way Sho's arms and chest flex against his dress shirt as he removes his coat in one swift movement - Sho has already detected a good spot in his shop to conduct their interview and wordlessly sinks onto one of the plush armchairs by the window after he shoots a 'What-do-you-think?' look to which Jun indulges a mute nod. Tabe is not too far, already moving along to his momentum with practiced ease and starts setting up her photographic equipment. As if on cue, Tegoshi bustles out from the kitchen with a tray of chocolate selections and greets the two of them with a bright smile. He watches their interaction and sees how Sho's eyes drop to Tegoshi's painted nails (white) and the interested look which rises on Tabe's face as she checks Tegoshi out when he serves them their best-seller specialty hot chocolate. Nino, surprisingly and yet unsurprisingly, has decided to not introduce himself and is nowhere to be seen.

“Matsumoto-san?”

“Hm?”

Jun drinks in the sight before him. Sho looks very at home in the midst of White Rabbit's whimsical décor with his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands wrapped around his steaming drink. The gentle morning rays streaming through the window are touching the tips of his ears and the base of his jaw, making him look a little younger.  Softer, even. It's a lovely sight and selfishly, Jun thinks that it's a something he doesn't mind walking into everyday should Sho ever think of dropping by and making that corner permanently his. That would be more than okay honestly.

The sound of a shutter goes off and Jun stares at Tabe who arches her brow at him. The camera, a bulky little thing with a huge lens, sits in her hands readily. “Sorry. Don't mind me. His Highness wants you to join him at his throne,” she says, deadpan. “Better hop to it before he throws an umbrella at you.”

What?

Her face gives nothing away but Sho laughs, his eyes crinkling at the edges with good humour. “Hey, that was a long time ago and only one time! By accident!” he says insistingly. “Surely, you can forgive me, Tabe-chan.”

“Don't let that sweet face of his fool you. He's not that gentlemanly. He's a total brute.”

“Tabe-chaaan.”

Tabe pointedly ignores the pout Sho is directing at her and casts a small smile at Jun. “Please.” She gestures towards the seat beside Sho and slowly Jun wills his feet to move. He's hyper aware of the two sets of eyes following him and stiffly sits across from where Sho is. He mumbles a timid 'excuse me' and holy hell, does Sho-san smell divine from here. It takes a lot of energy for Jun to not just lean over and bury his nose into the man's nape to find out just how far that scent goes.

“Perfect like a painting,” comes Tabe's succint comment. Again, her face gives nothing away and Jun isn't sure if he should be irritated or amused by her. “From this point on, please do act naturally. I'll be taking candid photos.” She takes one without warning and checks her display screen.

“Nervous?”

There's warmth in the smile Sho's directing at him and Jun returns it, heart beginning to hammer in his chest as he tells him no, of course not. Why would he be?

 

*

 

“Will you be able to spare some of your time on Thursday night?”

It's said casually and much like a statement just as they wrap up their interview that Jun doesn't think it's a question until he counts the number of seconds that slip by between them.  He turns his head and finds Sho reaching over to (finally) help himself to one of the palet fins.  From the corner of his eye, he sees Tabe animatedly converse with Tegoshi and they're both out of hearing range.

“Thursday?” Jun repeats, trying to not sound distracted as he watches Sho take a bite. The snap of chocolate is deafening to Jun's ears and it's terrifyingly intriguing, almost to the point of being morbid, to observe the way Sho takes his time sampling. The way his mouth purses slightly, his jaw and throat moving.  He catches a silver of Sho's tongue sweeping across his full bottom lip and tries to gauge his expression. It's painfully neutral. Sho isn't giving anything away.

“Yes.” Sho answers after a while. He's not looking at Jun but he's smiling.  He doesn't further elaborate.

“You want me to close up early?”

“If amenable, of course.”

The unspoken question of why goes unaddressed.  Jun narrows his eyes. “You're going to compensate my losses?” he states in a tetchy voice but the other man simply gives him a little shrug. It's a movement which really shouldn't look so attractive considering he has the sloping shoulders of Mount Fuji.

“An opportunity,” Sho says eventually with a fetching quirk of his lips and then he pops the rest of the palet fin into his mouth. “There's a person who I believe you'd be interested to meet.” He fishes into his briefcase with his other hand and passes over a glittery black envelope which has Jun's name written on it in white ink and roman letters. The card feels exceptionally gaudy and expensive in Jun's hand. From the corner of his eye, he catches Sho try to discreetly lick the chocolate off his fingers as the man adds, “I hope you could make time.” Jun keeps his eyes trained on the card and tries very hard to ignore the way Sho sneaks a kitten lick at his thumb to lap up a small translucent smear of mint creme.

It's not a question he hears but Jun, in spite of sensing the bait that's being waved in front of him, mindlessly bites.

 

*

 

“ _Aiba Masaki_?”

Jun miserably thumps his head against the surface of the marble workstation and makes a sound that could be comparable to a very sad whale and a broken coffee grinder. He hears Nino grouse and flap his tea towel like an immensely displeased mother as he slags Sho off for being a two-faced, ball-shriveled dickface while Tegoshi shrieks like a hyena high off ecstasy. Jun resists the urge to crumple up the invitation Sho had earlier passed him and gives it a weak push. The glitter from the card scrapes off and sticks to the surface of the counter just as it has on his fingers.

“Fuck my life,” he groans, rubbing glitter all over his face and feeling very troubled because fucking hell, _really_. It had to be Aiba Masaki of Roppongi's Pandora? How? Better yet, _why_?

“Fuck Sakurai Sho. He needs to be _quartered_ ,” seethes Nino viciously and Jun almost nods in agreement.

“Oh Christ, this is hilarious,” Tegoshi wheezes, wiping the tears from his eyes and Jun gives him a halfhearted kick to his shin.

 

*

 

Jun attends the party, obviously, because he isn't that daft nor that much of a stuck up. He's certain that Sho knows this too since he went to all that trouble to personally pass the invitation to him on Aiba's behalf. The question of why, though, still bears heavy on his mind.

“Well, obviously Aiba's trying to make as many connections as possible to guarantee his survival,” reasons Tegoshi as they quickly bundle into a taxi to escape the cold once Jun locks up White Rabbit. They'd left a small note – one with rabbits in tea cups, pink glitter and colourful deco tape because Tegoshi insists on it being super cute - on the door explaining their early closing in case any customers who didn't check their SNS account dropped by. “If he's associated with Sho then he's a huge threat, this Aiba guy.”

“Or he's just a giant asshat who likes to show off and clearly has Sho-chan wrapped around his finger. I heard they're actually friends,” Nino supplies grumpily since he lost at jankenpon and is still very sore on having to pay for their fare.

“They're friends?” Jun shoots an dirty look at Nino's slouching figure and a flare of irritation spikes up in him when Nino doesn't turn to look at him. “Oops,” is all the man says and he doesn't even sound the slightest bit guilty or apologetic as he continues to stare out at the early stirrings of Tokyo's night life.

Jun clicks his tongue. “Oi.”

“Whoa, wait, what? Sho-san and Aiba Masaki?” Tegoshi cuts in and the excited gleam in his eyes is further heightened by his coloured contact lenses. Out of the three of them, Tegoshi's the one who's seriously dressed to impress by going all out in his monochrome-themed attire when he found out that Aiba's dressing code was 'Super Seriously Fabulous Come On!!!!'. He's even got his skull earring on and that only comes out when Tegoshi knows he'll be lucky with his networking jig.

Nino finally turns. He blinks innocently. “Oh did I say friends? I meant fuck buddies.  I heard Aiba's once dated that porn star who looks a bit like Sho but I guess nothing beats the real deal, huh.”

Jun inhales too quickly and ends up swallowing his tongue.

 

*

 

It's only a party and Nino, being the little shit he is, has already done a fantastic job of elevating his anxiety and ruining his mood.

They stand at the storefront and take in the razzle-dazzle, kitschy image of Pandora that stands behind the line of congratulatory bouquets. For such a happy-go-lucky looking guy, Aiba Masaki apparently has quite an acquired taste. Buttery leather seats, glittering chandeliers, ivy green velvet, bedazzled _everything._ It fits right into the Roppongi lifestyle. Beside him, Tegoshi is brimming with excitement, his head bobbing to the music the DJ's playing inside while Nino...

“Jeez, what the heck is this? A classy porno dungeon? That Aiba guy really is a kinky freak.”

Always ever the sport.

A tall man appears to greet them and he flashes them a handsome smile that crinkles the corners of his almond-shaped eyes and softens his angular jaw. “Good evening! Thank you for waiting! My name is Koyama and welcome to Pandora! Ah, I'm sorry for the trouble but may I please see your invitation?” He speaks in a silvery voice that cuts past the drumming electro beats.

Tegoshi smoothly presents the card and shamelessly tosses in a wink much to Nino's dismay. ("Really, Teppyon? Really?" "Shh! He's a fucking stud of course I would!" "No one wants in on your Euro trash dick, honey" "You are such a bitch").  Koyama indulges them with a shaky smile before he leans forward to read the name on their invitation and checks his smartphone. His smile then widens a fraction into one that looks sincere and he looks up at Jun directly to give him a polite bow. “Ahh yes, welcome Matsumoto-san! Aiba-san is expecting you. Please. We at Pandora hope you'll enjoy your time.” His hand makes a swift arc, motioning them to proceed.

“Thank you,” Jun replies with a small nod before he raises his hand to show the gift – imported wine – he's carrying. “Congratulations.” Koyama receives it graciously with kind words and then in they walk.

“Whoa,” is what Nino breathes unthinkingly and Jun mutely nods in agreement because they quickly find themselves submerged in a glamourous pool of it-people and celebrities. There's food writers, chefs, SNS stars, tv presenters and even a few musicians walking around that Jun has to fight off the climbing anxiety that's aiming to choke him from inside. He throws a panicked look at his friends and mouths, _What the fuck._ Because seriously, what the fuck. Who the heck is Aiba Masaki?

Tegoshi is the first to recover quickly.  He immediately straightens his posture and gets his game face on. He gives Jun an encouraging smile and simply tells him, “Find Sho-san”, before he snatches up a tall flute of champagne from one of the refreshment tables and confidently strides over to a group of ladies who Jun vaguely recognises as being the hosts of a popular morning show.

“Fucking show off,” Nino grumbles as they observe how easily Tegoshi slips into their conversation and has already made them laugh. He nudges Jun's side gently. “Well, you heard him. Go. Sniff out Sho-chan. Wine and dine him or whatever but don't start getting funky because this Aiba guys looks like the type to keep his toys. Right. Well I'll fuck off now and check the chocolates. Who knows, maybe we can _borrow_ an idea or two. Later.” He quickly scuttles off with a cheeky two-fingered salute and leaves Jun.

Brilliant.

Jun hides his rising discomfort and mindlessly offers a polite smile to a popular SNS star – Rola, was it? - as she passes by giggling giddily with a fellow star.  He heaves a sigh.

Time to find Sho then.

He's only taken two, three steps past an arch of silver, gold, and ivy green balloons when he suddenly feels his arm being yanked hard to the side and then he's staring straight into the face of a flushed, glittery, and very ecstatic Aiba Masaki.

“Ahh!! It's really Ikemen Jun!!”

What.

Jun's jaw drops open.

Aiba clasps his sweaty hands around his and shakes it fervently. “You really came! I'm so happy! I didn't think you could because it's a Thursday but then I saw you come in and wow! Wow, I'm seriously happy! For real!” he exclaims in a voice that's an odd combination of hoarse and breathy. Jun quickly looks him over.  He takes in the leopard prints, the black and white polka dots, and the fluffy faux fur hat atop his head and wildly wonders, _So this is the Aiba Masaki who's fuck buddies with Sho-san and dates porn stars who look like him?_

“Aiba-san,” Jun begins but Aiba's grin stretches wider.

“Masaki,” he insists.

Jun clears his throat. “Um. This is our first meeting but I must thank you for extending an invitation. As the owner of White Rabbit, I'm humbled.” Jun slowly extracts his hand from Aiba's once he notices how the man hasn't released him, mindful to stay polite. He isn't sure if this is Aiba's natural way of meeting people or if it was some sort of ruse, but it's important for him to establish a good first impression on Pandora's owner no matter how oddly played out the moment is. Networking is important. Plus, if he can get the guy talking he might spill the beans on this fuck buddy business.

“A first as adults, yeah,” Aiba remarks matter-of-factly and still grinning. “But it's been a long time so I wouldn't blame you for not remembering since we hardly talked. That aside.” Aiba's suddenly hand snakes down and squeezes Jun's bum. “Holy mackerel, Sho-chan was right! You've totally grown up super maximum hot, huh!”

 

*

 

It turns out Aiba was right. They had met in the past but only for an approximate amount of twenty eight seconds.

“Lab Coat!” Jun gasps out and rather than the offended look he'd expected, Aiba throws his head back and laughs. The drink in his hand sloshes dangerously. They've settled down at the bar after Aiba had vigourously tugged him around Pandora and introduced him to his entire guest list of dazzling people that will make Jun's head spin for days. In passing, he'd seen Tegoshi flash him a pleased grin whilst he was in the company of veteran food writer Joshima-san and Nino who was funnily enough accompanied by an attentive-looking Koyama and still going at it with his chocolate eating escapade. He had also spotted Tabe who gave him a little wave as she hovered by the buffet table in the company of an elegantly dressed young woman with a cute round face. Sho, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“What the heck is that?” Aiba wheezes once he's taken a good sip of his dubious neon green drink. Now that they're sitting close, Jun finally does see how Aiba and Lab Coat are the same person. Aiba is still tall and gangly but his body has filled out nicely with age. He remembers the mad glimmer in Aiba's eyes then – the one which had Sho squirming under whenever he'd been caught and cornered for another radical experiment – and compares how it's mellowed down a little over the years to a grown-up impish look.

“Your name. I had trouble remembering then so that was yours. You know, since you were wearing a Lab Coat.” It sounds a little silly now that he's said it out loud and Jun dips his head, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising? That's pretty cute actually!”

“It's a little inappropriate.”

“Ah, you're too stiff Ike-Jun! Live it up! Here's where the party people's at, you see?”

“...Right.”

“Atta boy!”

Throughout their interaction that night, Jun determines that there's an unnatural airiness around Aiba that doesn't feel right and yet sits very well with him. In addition to that, the things that come out of his mouth are often so jaw-dropping and ridiculous - who on earth spontaneously talks about the ranking of pert buttocks with esteemed chefs like Okada-san?  Or compliment Rola's breasts right to her face? - that it's hard to imagine how he and Sho are even friends in the first place. Or fuck buddies. Whatever.

Jun steels himself after he takes a long sip of his chocolate liquor. “If you don't me asking, Aiba-san,” he begins and Aiba instantly zeroes his attention on him by turning his body towards Jun. _That's sort of Sho-like_ , he reckons unthinkingly and pushes on boldly. “Where is Sakurai-san?”

“Hm? Sho-chan?" Aiba purses his lips, smacking them, and the glitter from his upper lip smears everywhere as he smiles. It's a nice open look. “He'll be here. Said he was caught up with something so – oh, oh!” Aiba leans forward, grinning wickedly as an idea springs in his head. “Say Matsujun –” Jun's brows arch up at this. “- what did you call him back then?”

“In school?” Aiba nods and he looks so keen to know that Jun can't help but tease him a little for it. He pretends to think a little before he finally answers decisively, “Sho-san.”

Aiba's face crumples in genuine disappointment. “Really? Oh come on. And here I was expecting 'Oshare Rodent Senpai' or 'Mini Fuji-san'.”

Jun bursts out laughing. “No way!” he gasps out as he sets down his drink and Aiba mirrors his action, beaming. “That's too much!”

“But you'd think it, right?” Aiba is going tremulously and he looks so alive in that moment, his eyes shining with nostalgia, as they both delve into memories of a young strident Sho. “He was seriously such a super lame guy in spite of having such a super cool look!”

“No way!”

“ _Way_ way!”

They both laugh it off and Jun finally feels the last strings of tension ease out of his shoulders when Aiba's hand claps his shoulder.  The touch doesn't make his lungs implode as he initially thought it would - if anything, Jun feels nice and warm and buzzing - so who cares if Aiba and Sho are fuck buddies, right?  Right.

 

*

 

Where Jun's chocolates are based on hopes and dreams, what ifs and coulds (and Sho); Pandora's chocolates are based on the beauty of human errors, on the what haves. They dictate a good portion of his own life, Aiba easily tells him and that's when he introduces him to a man named Ohno Satoshi. There's nothing particularly outstanding about him and his looks are mostly unassuming but when Jun feels his slender fingers brush past his when they exchange business cards, he catches the small smile which lights up Ohno's entire face and then Jun finds himself suddenly thinking, _He's incredible._

“Captain's incredible,” Aiba gushes coincidentally as he deposits his fluffy hat on top of Ohno's head. It surprisingly goes well with Ohno's sleek combination of light and dark denims and leather loafers. “Seriously, he's super awesome and no one can get enough of him! Do you know almost half of my chocolates are actually based on him? He's seriously the best lay I've ever had, I swear!”

Jun almost drops his drink. He shoots a furtive glance between the two men, mind desperately trying to process what just happened. He wonders if he's probably just overthinking or mishearing things but then there's Aiba who's beaming with a certain faraway look in his eyes and Ohno who merely looks serene by his side. Which is odd since he's neither confirmed or rejected Aiba's disturbing proclamation.

“Oh! Sorry! You guys keep talking, okay? I'll be back!” Aiba suddenly says and then promptly dashes off to greet a group of men who cheer and congratulate him boisterously at the sight of him. Jun sees that Sho is not part of the group.  Trying not to feel disappointed, he turns to Ohno in an attempt to make small talk but the man wordlessly wanders off to a nearby leather sofa and sinks on the velvet cushions. Jun stalls, torn between joining or staying where he is as Ohno hasn't invited much less spoken directly with him, and he watches the man help himself to one of the crystal bowls of chocolates. His actions are slow and graceful but it's nothing like Sho's meaningful and measured movements. For Ohno, it seems almost effortless.  Like ink being brushed on canvas.

Another rambunctious cheer breaks out from Aiba and his friends and then Ohno turns his head.  Their gazes meet.  Seconds trickle by, slow like honey, and then Jun decides, _well Sho hasn't turned up yet._

He gravitates towards him.

 

*

 

Ohno Satoshi is an artist and his voice is adenoidal. His diction is drawn-out and sometimes he bumbles because he doesn't see the point in trying too hard with getting his messages across. He doesn't really like making direct eye contact, often preferring to keep his stare situated at his shoes, but his body is relaxed beside Jun as they talk. The aura he gives off is different from Aiba, Jun thinks. It's warm and welcoming but also other-worldly in a spacey sense, making him almost charming.  Aside from art, Jun also finds out that Ohno often does some modelling work because of his good looks – Jun takes a good second look and agrees that yes, Ohno actually does have an attractive profile in spite of his height – and admits to thinking that fishing is something he wouldn't mind doing all his life.

“Wouldn't you feel trapped though?” Jun finds himself asking as he stares into his third glass of the night. He's lost track of time and propriety at some point because unlike Aiba, Ohno has the quiet ability of lulling him into disarmament. He feels comfortable right now. “You're surrounded by so much water and there isn't anything else out there.”

Ohno hums thoughtfully at this and fidgets a little. His weight creates a bigger dip in the seat and it ends up making Jun sink along with him. Their sides press against each other. It's warm. Ohno doesn't look bothered. If anything, he seems to look even more relaxed than before so Jun makes no attempt to re-establish polite distance. He allows them to remain like this. “Quite the opposite,” Ohno is murmuring close to his ear. “I'll feel liberated. I don't need to think about anything or anyone. I won't feel tied down because that's what happens with water, you see. It runs.”

“You don't like it here?”

“I'm content,” he tells without really answering but Jun doesn't feel irritated by it. If anything, he just accepts it for what it is because something tells him that this is how Ohno takes things in stride. That Ohno is nothing like Sho who moves with purpose like fire or Aiba who light ups like fireworks. Ohno is like water. He moves to his own rhythm and doesn't linger if there is a crack available for him to leave from.

“Is Aiba the one making you stay?” It's a relevant question, Jun reasons in his head as he glances over to see Ohno, placid, blinking slowly at him.

“We're not exclusive.”

Oh.

That makes sense.

Also, it really is true then. Aiba really does keep fuck buddies. Huh.

“And you, Matsujun?” Ohno's taken his eyes off him and is now looking at the mingling crowd. “Who's making you stay?”

Jun frowns.

“Currently,” clarifies Ohno, somehow able to take Jun's half-second pause as confusion. “You could have left anytime, you know.” He turns to look at Jun once more and in that moment, he looks awake and understanding. Like he knows the reason why Jun had come to Pandora in the first place and why he's sitting here with Ohno having deep (drunk) conversations about water and Aiba's alleged fuck buddy business.

“My friends,” Jun answers feebly in an attempt to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters. “Waiting, that is. I'm not...” He trails off, unsure with what to say really because he doesn't feel any probing from Ohno or even genuine interest. Rather, it feels like Ohno is just saying what's on his mind and it's really up to Jun if he wants to answer.  He's proven right when Ohno doesn't say anything else after and it causes him to falter for a moment, to thoughtlessly glance over to the sea of Aiba's merry guests.

Sho is there.

Jun's eyes widen.  His lungs seize in his chest. It contracts and constricts and quivers with every drag of breath he pulls in but Jun still feels like he's drowning because he's seeing Sho - flushed, apologetic and still looking so dashing in his office attire - breeze in to greet Aiba with a tight hug and then he's promptly joined by a woman _._ It's the same woman he'd seen accompany Tabe earlier and upon greeting Sho - who smiles a tired smile but still looks so wonderful - her hand immediately curls around the crook of his arm.  They stand closely, comfortable and very much used to each other.

Jun thinks his heart has stopped.

There's a frightening rush of emotion welling up inside him and it's irrational to jump to any conclusions. But Jun's mind has always been a dangerous place so he can't help it. He can't help but wonder and assume and _assume_. He can't help but feel like the wind has been knocked right out of him because Sho has always had that effect on him regardless of what it is that he does. Sho is catching fire and Jun feels like he's just been singed to his very bones.  He watches with a heavy heart how a few words are exchanged between them and Aiba and then Sho takes his leave.  The woman follows, waving at Aiba sweetly, and is still latched to his arm.

It all happens in less than two minutes. 

A whoosh of air leaves Jun's lungs and dizzily he's certain he needs another drink.  So he moves to stand and maybe look for Tegoshi and Nino – fuck, where are they when he needs them? - but Ohno, being some wizard mind reader he's somehow revealed himself to be, beats him to it. Wordlessly and without any curiosity nor judgement in his eyes, the man is handing him a shot glass of that dubious neon green drink Aiba had been sloshing around and Jun accepts it. He downs it in one go.

 

*

 

“For nine years.”

Jun nods. He keeps his eyes fixed on the empty glass in his hands.

Ohno lets out a quiet sigh and the sound is immediately lost into the party that's still going on full swing around them. “That's a really long time to love someone,” he finally states and it doesn't sound as objective as it should be.  He also makes no reference to Sho or the woman.  Whether it was out of politeness or because he actually didn't see them, Jun will take it in stride.  He's tipsy enough to allow it.

“I'm not hopelessly in love with him."

“Yet you see him as everything.”

“And nothing.”

It's only when they're leaving the party together with a gift box of Pandora's chocolates and stumbling through the entrance of Ohno's studio apartment – a quaint and plain space which one half is devoted to his art and is utilised as a work space while the other only houses the bare essentials – later on does Jun realise that he never did reject Ohno's statement. Even as he watches Ohno strip out of his clothes and walk about the place nude with ease, he wonders distractedly what and why did they say what they said.

“Why are you naked?” Jun asks after a while when he watches Ohno pour two mugs of tea and sets them on the coffee table that's located next to an odd-looking piece of leather furniture. It's sort of like a bed, a love-seat and a table all mixed into one and it looks like something that doesn't naturally belong in the apartment. Perhaps it's a gift from Aiba for all that inspiration he's instigated.

(Hazily Jun's thinking, If Sho had left with that woman, does that make Aiba his side man? Is Sho actually into men but he has a side girl to keep up his appearance? Are he and Aiba not exclusive like Aiba and Ohno are? Where does that leave Jun then?) 

Ohno shrugs in reply and the movement is fluid and natural, like water lapping against sandy shores. Jun finds himself captivated as the other man goes to lie on his side on the bed-table seat and he has the box of Pandora chocolates beside him. He stretches his legs out and doesn't bother covering up for modesty. There's a tense moment where they both hold each other's gazes and then Ohno's hand moves.  His fingers dance across the gold lettering and then he opens up the box. The sound pierces through the quiet of the apartment and it causes Jun's heart rate to spike a little. Ohno seems to sense this and without uttering a word, he gracefully tilts his head to the side and exposes the length of his neck.

Fucking hell.

“Ohno-san.” Jun's feet moves him to join Ohno's side. He pauses, though, with one knee perched on the leather seat and looks down at Ohno from his height. He takes in the glimmer of Ohno's unfocused eyes and the flush of colour that's spreading prettily down his throat and chest. It's difficult to talk when he's starting to feel aroused but Jun manages to tell him, “I'm fresh meat in this industry so I can't offer you anything that Aiba-san or whoever else can. You could've left with anyone from that party but you didn't.”

“I didn't.”

“So what are you really after?”

At this, Ohno smiles. It makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and before Jun can say anything further, his fingers lift one of the bonbons out of the box and he extends his arm up. He presses it to Jun's lips. “Number four. Middle Ground. Lust Series,” he's saying and for the first time that night, his voice is clear and concise. Jun finds himself hanging on to every single word.  “Aiba-chan said he made this after the third time we had sex.”

“Why third?” Jun leans closer, his hand comes down to plant itself next to the box. He feels it tip over a little but he doesn't bother to check if he's got chocolates everywhere. Not with how he's now kneeling over Ohno and the chocolate the man's still offering nudges enticingly against his mouth.

Ohno's eyes twinkle. “Because that was when we understood what we needed.”

“And you think I want this?” His other hand comes down. Ohno is now caged beneath him.

“Better something than everything and nothing.”

Jun stares at him. He takes in how Ohno's eyes are almost black and how his tongue darts out to lick his lips. (They're not beautiful and plump like Sho's but they're enticing enough, shiny and spit slicked).  Jun mimics the action and then runs the tip of his tongue across the blunt ridges of the offered truffle.  Tongues the particular small crack.  He tastes sugar and salt, apple and cinnamon.  Ohno's chest moves and Jun feels, sees the way the air leaves Ohno's lungs like a breathless whisper.  In his mind's eye, he sees Sho stretched out beneath him, pupils blown wide and looking positively wrecked.  He thinks of how Sho would offer the piece of chocolate with not his fingers but his mouth, challenging him to follow him past the point of no return.  He thinks of Aiba and Sho, if they're in the same position as them right now after Sho's sent off his lady friend in order to have a passionate clandestine tryst. He thinks of a lot of things and then sees Ohno again.  Lovely, incredible Ohno who's looking up at him invitingly but is water that will always run and soothe.  He's not like fire that will stay and burn and consume.  He won't break his heart. He wouldn't be able to.

"You can't replace him," Jun tells him seriously.

Ohno smiles. It looks perfect. "I don't intend to."

Jun stops thinking then.  Holding Ohno's gaze, he opens his mouth and takes a bite.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An understanding of sorts is made, poor Jun suffers from a case of jfc why are we even friends and oh no she's not oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohno and Jun's thing is both complicated and not complicated for me. It's a simple and straightforward relationship really but then again can everything really be that simple? Questions, questions.
> 
> In case you're wondering, I'm basing Tabe Mikako's look from her role in Do S Deka (even though I've never watched it) because it's a really different image of her and I personally really like it. I personally don't really watch Tabe as much but I wanted her and Jun to interact a little because hey, this is someone who works and shares Sho's birthday. Of course I want Jun to squirm in discomfort.
> 
> Also, the 'show-er or a grower' is a line from a UK reality show called The Only Way is Essex (TOWIE) which I couldn't resist dropping in. If you're looking to pass the time with 'shit but sometimes ridiculously good and embarrassingly addicting' tv go check out TOWIE. You will either hate it or love it.

He wakes to Ohno unabashedly watching him.

Ohno's still naked, they both are, but there's a sketchpad in his hands and a piece of grey charcoal which smudges all of his fingers. He's sketching to the faraway sounds of delivery trucks and bicycles bells and the way his hand moves to create swift gentle strokes and curves is mesmerising. The blunt scratching of charcoal on paper is soothing too. It's a sound Jun never would've thought to be something he'd think he'd be okay to get accustomed to.

“You're gorgeous,” Ohno murmurs. His eyes are still trained on his sketch as he says this and he rubs his nose, leaving a dusty mark that makes Jun feel like tracing over with his fingers and lips. “I didn't think so at first but I really like this. It's fine like this if you want, you know? It can be 'nothing' too.”

Jun looks at him for one long moment. It's fairly early in the morning and he drinks in the image of Ohno being silhouetted by the soft morning rays that's peeking through the curtains. His hair is a lovely tousled mess from sex and sleep and it's glowing against the sun, the tips looking like they've been kissed by dawn stars. It compliments the marks Jun had left on Ohno's shoulder when they'd reached climax hours ago and it's almost surreal all of this. No, not surreal. It's comfortable. It isn't awkward at all. It's lovely. Ohno's lovely.

Ohno stops sketching then and peers up at him. He looks serene in that moment, unguarded, with eyes shining with something close to fondness. Jun wonders if it's a look he can ever gauge from Sho. He wonders if Sho is waking up next to Aiba right now just like he and Ohno are, or if he'd left Aiba's place right after fucking so he can slip into his lady's arms with little guilt or none. He wonders if he and Sho could be something like this and all sorts of things but then decides that he doesn't know. He isn't sure if he wants to know. Sho isn't straight-forward as he tends to think he is and Jun isn't the only one who Sho (wants to) sees. There has been no progress. He isn't sure if there will be progress.

“You think I want this?” His voice is scratchy from sleep but the gentle smile Ohno graces him almost makes him feel like secrets have already been shared between them. Perhaps they have.

“It's something than everything and nothing,” Ohno says simply. It's almost like a rehearsed line except this time they're both sober. They're both unguarded and Ohno's words are laced with something close to conviction.

Jun wets his lips and sees how Ohno's eyes shift towards them. “You never told me why though.”

“Does everything need to have significant meaning?”

“Well, it doesn't make sense.”

“Nothing would progress if everything is dictated by sense, don't you think?” Ohno fiddles with his charcoal and without looking he's creating more curves on his paper. “Perhaps nine years is long enough.”

Progress, huh.

Jun watches Ohno closely and sees the same gentle, non-judgemental look in his eyes.

“I'd be cruel. Because you'd know that you can never replace him.” _I won't allow you to replace him_.

“And I never intend to.”

The morning light shifts a little and once again Jun finds himself thinking, _He's incredible, Ohno-san's incredible._ Wordlessly he reaches up and pulls Ohno down into a kiss. It's no way near an answer but he feels the smile rise on Ohno's lips and knows that here is a place he can go to. A place where the nothings can become the somethings Jun wants but hasn't gotten without feeling like the whole world would collapse around him because he's decided to become selfish. A place where he can flesh out his raw self, lull into disarmament and just let water run its course. A place where the phantom of Sakurai Sho can follow and he can just always, always give in.

The tips of Ohno's fingers flutter across his jaw, down the length of his neck and Jun sighs.

So what if Sho and Aiba are fuck buddies? Nothing can be worse than that.

 

*

 

Nino is tucked in his usual corner going at it with his DS but his head lifts at the sound of Jun breezing in and trying to act as if he isn't two hours late since opening time. “You didn't fuck him,” he states plainly and it has Jun stopping in his tracks and blinking dumbly at him for a moment.

“Huh?”

“Sho-chan,” Nino drawls out and he's saying it in that irritating elongated way, rolling the name around his tongue like it's a piece of candy. “He turned up late looking fucking ravishable as you please but then you stayed put and played hooky with Spacey Oh-chan.” There isn't any venom or disappointment in his voice. Just amusement.

Jun blinks once more at him, takes in the way Nino's shoulders are relaxed and his eyes are tracking the movements on his small screen, and then gazes longingly at the coffee machine. There's at least two cups worth in it, freshly brewed. Idly, he recalls the kiss he stole from Ohno's slack mouth that morning when they squeezed in a quick romp against his kitchen counter after one passionate kiss becomes another and then another. He tasted like coffee and marshmallows. Jun licks his lips.

“Huh,” he huffs distractedly.

“Huh. What do you mean –” Nino's brows arch upwards as he meets Jun's gaze. “Oh? Oh my god you didn't. Oh my god you did.” He apparently spots the flush of colour that's running up Jun's neck and barks out a laugh which he smothers into the crook of his arm. His eyes peer at him, wide in astonishment. “You and Spacey Oh-chan? Holy _shit_. Well that escalated quickly. I guess Sho-chan isn't that of a big deal after all.”

“Shut up.” Jun feels the tips of his ears burn.

“Ho-ly shit.”

Jun shuffles over to the coffee machine and pours himself a cup, pointedly ignoring the way Nino grins and wiggles his eyebrows at him. He takes an indignant sip and instantly grimaces. It's the shitty vending machine coffee and there's no shot of liquor in it. Unbelievable. “He's not a replacement,” he tells after another mouthful of shit coffee and feels the weight of Nino's gaze following him as he shuffles to the back room to change into his uniform.

“Hey, I'm not judging. I'd hop on his disco stick too, you know.” Nino's voice wafts to him and faintly he hears the sounds of excited shouts and weapons clashing resume. Today he's playing Dragon Quest. “But seriously though, at least tell me you're not thinking of doing that revenge sex thing to get back at Sho. There's a reason why they keep using that trope in primetime dramas. They never end well.”

Jun pops his head out to the kitchen and scowls at him. “That's more of Tegoshi's thing, don't you think?”

“Oi! Rude!”

Tegoshi bustles in from the back door that leads outside, red cheeked and raised brows. He's carrying a few bags full of ingredients and looks over Jun's half-dressed state. Catalogues the marks Ohno's peppered across his hip bones and stomach. His brows climb higher when Jun makes no move to quickly dress him and Jun can see the questions that are lining up at the tip of his tongue. “Is that–”

“Jun's a slut for spacey artists and their disco sticks!” yells Nino.

At the stunned look on Tegoshi's face, Jun takes another sip of his shit coffee and asks him if they have marshmallows and any more of that Ecuadorian coffee Nino seems to like buying whenever it's on sale.

“No. Why?”

Jun shrugs his uniform on. “Just fancied having some again.”

 

 

*

 

The following days is spent thwarting off his friends' demands for juicy details about his tryst with Ohno. In between their tasks of running their business and preparing in the kitchen as well as Jun sitting down for some more interviews that Tegoshi keeps dropping into his lap, Nino's bothered him for naughty particulars about Ohno – _So was he show-er or a grower? Holy cow, you traded email addresses with each other? So is he your call boy or are you his?_ \- while Tegoshi goes in for the more serious things.

“But say even if you're hooking up with Ohno-san as sex friends-" Jun frowns a little at the word because he doesn't think he and Ohno are sordid like that. It's companionship, no? "-the chase isn't off though? You're still going to bend Sho-san over the counter and pound his tight bubble ass with nine years worth of fucks, yeah?” He says this with a smile and the nonchalance of describing the weather.

Jun keeps his mouth shut. He tries very hard to concentrate on kneading and rolling out his pastillage dough on a sheeter and not the image of a debauched Sho thrown across his marble countertop with reddened lips springing into his head and how the expanse of his strong neck is just laid out and ready to be marked. Nope.

Tegoshi slides over and plops himself onto a stool in front of Jun. His eyes are gleaming wickedly. “Plus I heard Aiba is still seeing that Sho look-alike porn star so Sho-san is technically on the market. You know, I've a hunch that he's into food sex. I mean, it all makes sense doesn't it? Nino told me he can fit a whole steak in his mouth. Wouldn't it be better for him to use that mouth on your dick instead?”

Jun glares vehemently at Tegoshi.

The other man blinks innocently. “Well, wouldn't it? Or do you prefer to be eaten out? I'm sure that jaw of his can do wonders for _hours_.”

“Get out.”

 

 

*

 

That Sho look-alike porn star does not look like Sho at all. There are stark differences that Jun is proud to say he can easily tell. For one thing, the porn star does not have the same button nose that Sho has nor the smooth curve of his cheek and there are no crows feet that crinkles at the corner of his eyes like Sho's does whenever he smiles. His fingers aren't that long or elegant either and the porn star's voice is a tad bit deeper than Sho's when he talks (or purrs for that matter). They do, however, have very similar mouths and while Jun can easily say that Sho's lips are far more appealing, it doesn't take a lot to imagine when porn star Sho look-alike is enthusiastically gorging himself around another man's dick.

And fuck no, Jun is not watching Sho look-alike's porn online (he doesn't even want to bother to find out who bookmarked it in his browser with the name 'It's PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!!!'). He's merely checking out how that jaw of his isn't as magnificent as Sho's is whenever he's captured at his best angles in photographs.

And Sho really does have a magnificent jaw.

Jun is reminded of this later when he indulges himself in the latest entry of Sho's blog where he congratulates his dear Aiba Masaki and the opening of Pandora. Sho writes how Aiba and he have known each other for a long time and that he's elated for the man to be able to achieve one of his dreams. He also writes how _Honestly, if it wasn't for his smile and his hand holding my hair back every time I get hungover in our wild days, well, I wouldn't be where I am today too. He's a miracle boy, Masaki is._

Jun ignores the tight feeling in his chest and notices that Sho's girlfriend is nowhere to be found in the entry or any before it.

 

*

 

It's when Ohno is on his knees and doing brilliant things with his tongue that Jun realises how no one's ever talked about the girl who left with Sho that night. He's propped against one of the canvases, back feeling slick against streaks of drying paint and fingers clutching at Ohno's soft hair, and dazedly wonders if they've all come down with the same supposition.

“Sakurai.” He divulges later when they're sweaty and boneless against the plush cushions of Ohno's sofa, lazily watching that famous five member idol group make absolute fools of themselves on national television as they're coming down from their gratified state. “Nine years later and I don't know what to expect of him at this point. He's not linear, that guy. He's...”

“Worlds apart.”

Jun casts a sideways glance, his stomach lurching a little whenever Ohno mindlessly says something astounding like this. “Yes. Exactly.”

Ohno hums. There's a moment where they just sit in silence and Jun counts the number of steady breaths they each draw. At the seventh count, Ohno points at the screen and one of the idols - Nakai – starts to become comically temperamental over an offhand comment made by one of the guests.

“He's supposed to look like an idol but doesn't behave as one,” Ohno mumbles. “It doesn't make sense but people just go with it. The entertainment business wouldn't go on if everything was sensible and predictable.” He gives Jun a sidelong glance and their eyes meet. “Sakurai sounds a bit like that, don't you think? Perhaps you should stop expecting and just go with it.”

“Is it too much to want things to go your way?” Jun asks and he thinks of the time when he did just go with it, when he had allowed Sho to take the reins all the way and just take what he thinks he deserves and look at where that got them. “Because you won't know if you haven't tried.”

Ohno shifts beside him and their sides press together. There's lovely warmth and Jun finds himself sitting back and letting the flow of the other man's words run over him. “I suppose so,” he hears him murmur. “Just know that it's okay to stand still sometimes. We're still human after all.”

 

*

 

So he follows what Ohno says.

He stops actively thinking about Sho for now and decides to focus on his chocolates. Day in, day out, he watches the flow of life sweep in and out of his shop. He sees the starts and the continuations that people bring through and it's beautiful. It's humbling to see how he can sell his ideas of hopes and dreams, the what ifs and what coulds. Everyone is amazing, he keeps thinking. Life can be amazing. Nino notices this of course – nothing ever escapes his attention – and finds it amusing to see how much a sap Jun has become since he left for Lyon and callously blames Tegoshi for it. In return, the Swiss doesn't give him their usual daily cup of gourmet coffee and spites him by making a cup of tea by pouring cold milk in it first and topping it up with cool boiled water. Nino, being the strange wicked creature he is, takes it like a champ.  It's hilarious but in spite of feeling lighter from not actively thinking about Sho, Jun feels how it's left a gaping hole in his chest and it's aching to be covered up or filled.  Maybe even both.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

That's what Tegoshi tells him later in the quiet of the evening when they're assembling one of Tegoshi's 4x4 models and after Nino's left that night to drink with a female friend whose face is frighteningly identical to his.

“You still ache for him and it's incredible, honestly,” Tegoshi says. His painted nails are glossy black like the depths of the ocean and they're drumming against the curve of his jaw. “But you know, sitting back is alright but sometimes it's a waste. You've got that burning desire, Jun. You need to come at him at the speed of light.”

“And you think Aiba-san doesn't mind? They are close, after all.”

“Hm. Probably not.”

It sounds nowhere convincing but Jun doesn't call him out on it. Instead, he resumes putting together their 4x4 models and a comfortable silence falls between them. On the television screen, that famous five idol group is currently harassing the three members of that idol group Tegoshi seems so fond of.

No one mentions about Sho's girlfriend that night.

 

*

 

It comes as a surprise that his interview with Sho is released in print just shy of coming into the winter season, when Christmas delights are beginning to get coverage. What's more, it's Tabe Mikako who comes sweeping into the store in a swish of her china doll bob and she wordlessly hands over a copy into Jun's hands before he could even utter out a greeting to her. He glances down and sees his own face staring straight up at him. It's a beautiful shot but it's also surreal as fuck.

“Fuck.”

Shit is real, he realises belatedly when the weight of the magazine suddenly starts to feel heavier in his hands. He's on Sho's magazine and Sho fucking _wrote_ about him.  His heart skips too many beats.

“Like I said. Perfect as a painting,” she simply says with a quirk of her lips before she folds her hands in front of her and bows to Tegoshi, who beams at the sight of her, and Nino, who slinks up against Jun's back to peer at the cover. Jun ignores the appraising noise Nino makes. “It's been a while. Thank you for taking care of our Sakurai-san.”

“It's our pleasure,” Nino returns mildly and his hand goes to rest on Jun's hip, patting it. “Thank you for taking our Matsumoto under yours.”

“We're sorry for your trouble. It's been a blustery morning, hasn't it? Hot chocolate?” offers Tegoshi kindly with a handsome smile.

“Sure.” Tabe's lips split into a wonderfully child-like grin and it softens her features. She turns her head towards Jun. "I'd be honoured if you would join me."

"Go ahead, knock yourself out," Nino answers for him and he casts her a charming quirk of his lips as he pats Jun's hair. "He's useless in the kitchen for now anyway, Tabe-san. It'd do him some good to actually interact with other human beings, you know."

Tabe looks immensely pleased at this and as she's shown to a seat by Tegoshi, Jun wordlessly stomps his boot hard on Nino's foot.  The man barely flinches.  What a freak.

 

*

 

It's a bit unusual sitting there and listening to Tabe talk so familiarly about Sho.  In a span of ten minutes, she's talked about his work ethic, how devilishly handsome he becomes when he's under pressure in meeting deadlines and how unbelievably enthusiastic he is whenever he invites her out to an eating escapade every lunchtime because nobody can keep up with him.  She tells him, "He gets super excited over scallops and shellfish, you know. It's super lame but ridiculously cute at the same time but when he eats, he doesn't even look up after that. He gets really into it and sometimes forget I'm there."  She's shed off her black coat and Jun is surprised to see that underneath the dark makeup and the straight line of her mouth, she's actually bubbly and outspoken person who speaks in a matter-of-factly voice that Jun is starting to find increasingly likeable.

"That's dastardly of him," he supplies and she nods enthusiastically.

"Isn't it? It's no way to treat a girl you know. It makes you wonder just how on earth does he even keeps his relationship in the first place. He's no way romantic at all."

Oh?

Jun meets her gaze and she tilts her head wonderingly.  

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh. No. I just - well."  He's starting to feel a little hot under the collar of his uniform because if there was one thing Jun has learnt about Tabe is that she can become incredibly inquisitive and doesn't like unfinished sentences. However, he's also aware that it's incredibly awkward to start gossiping about Sho's love life and it's even more odd to suddenly start asking about that elusive girlfriend of his to his colleague. So he gestures to the magazine that's laid out between them. A safe subject. "I didn't expect this would be out so soon."

“Oh!" Tabe straightens at that, realisation dawning upon her face. "I apologise. It was incredibly forward of me to drop by unannounced wasn't it? I apologise on behalf of Sakurai-kun. Usually he'd have informed you but it's been hectic at the office and he's been shipped off here and there for work since Christmas is coming around the corner. And he'd only left me a memo a few days ago about giving you a copy the moment it was in print, so," She moved to bow but Jun waves it off with a sheepish smile.

"Oh, no, please. I didn't mean to sound rude. I'm just surprised really." He looks down at the magazine and inspects a photo.  It's one which consists of Jun and Sho, seated, and their eyes had met over the tasteful plating of Jun's palet fins.  Something electrifying goes down the length of Jun's spine and he observes, taking in the way Sho looks undoubtedly wonderful with his legs crossed and a hand cradling his jaw, a ghost of a smile on his lips.  But then there's also something which Tabe's camera had captured in that one split second frame.  Something which sits oddly in Sho's handsome face - _a look? What is that look he's got there? What is that look in_ my _face there?_ \- and Jun doesn't know what it is.  He doesn't know if he can ever find out.

“Technically your article would be out by the January issue at the earliest," Tabe's voice cuts in his thoughts as she goes on to explain with a quick sip of her hot chocolate. "But Sakurai-kun was adamant on making sure it goes through for _this_ issue. Which is...well, it's not something that easily gets approved but. This is Sakurai Sho we're talking about, you know.” She gives a little laugh. “If he wants something, he'll work for it until he gets it. He defies logic and can be a little unreasonable sometimes, that man. Say.” Tabe leans forward in her seat and she's suddenly peering from under her heavy fringe at Jun with round eyes that's shining in curiosity. “If you don't mind me asking, what is your relationship with His Highness? Were you childhood friends? I've worked with him since he started and he doesn't usually rearrange his schedule for anyone, you know.”

Jun blinks at that but he instantly latches on to her last sentence. _He doesn't usually rearrange his schedule for anyone_. From that, he hears the curiosity behind the implication of Jun being seen as something _more_ for Sho and it resonates for a while before it hits him square in the chest.  If he was standing, he would've staggered then because the statement actually knocks the air out of him. For a moment, Jun's mind goes blank.  He feels like he's floated out of his body and into a different plane of existence because holy shit. Tabe has just disclosed how Sakurai Sho had rearranged his schedule for _him._ At an email dropped by Tegoshi under the guise of Jun, Sho had instantly made time for him in his tight schedule.

_I'll make time for you._

_Still eager to be the first?_

_Absolutely. I wouldn't miss it for the world._

He didn't think Sho was actuallyserious.  Or ridiculous for that matter.  Just who the hell does he think he is prioritising Jun and shamelessly making him a cover story like he's actually _worth it_?

“High school,” Jun manages to utter faintly. He feels very faint. “We went to the same high school.”

Tabe positively beams at this newfound information and then she opens her mouth to trill out, “A-ha! High school sweethearts!”

There's a clatter of a pan dropping to the floor somewhere in the back where Nino and Tegoshi have obviously been eavesdropping on them from and Jun blanches, staring at her wide-eyed and slack-jawed.  His heart stops. “Huh?”

It's at that same moment that the bell at the entrance echoes through the shop as the door swings open. Two figures sweep in, smartly dressed and looking like they'd both just walked out of a movie set, and twin smiles are flashed at Nino's baffled face as he steps out from the kitchen to greet them. One of the pair – a woman – turns her head slightly and her eyes are quickly drawn to Jun's face for one split second before it settles on the side of Tabe's. A smile blooms on her cute round face and Jun immediately feels his throat seize up because he recognises her.

“Ah! Mikako-chan!”

Tabe whips her head around just as Jun turns his attention to the woman's companion. The man lifts his face and instantly their eyes meet from across the room. Jun's stomach lurches, clenches into a tight ball and then drops to the floor. He feels very, very faint and incredibly, incredibly sick.

“Matsumoto-san," Sakurai Sho calls out and his wonderful, beautiful mouth curls up into a dashing smile.  And, fucking yes, his mouth is definitely so much better than that porn star look-alike of his.

Jun struggles to swallow down the cotton that's growing in his mouth because he can't look away from his eyes and it's already way past three seconds.  It's a fucking a new record. “Sakurai-san,” he manages to croak out.  He remains trapped in his seat, anxious of the fact that his heart beating far too fast, and he feels Tabe hop up to greet the very girl Sho had left with that night at Pandora.

“Oh,” comes Nino's stage whisper from the side.

Oh, indeed.


End file.
